


Cinders

by wookiekisses



Series: Day Must Follow [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Freddy has abandonment issues and Jacob is emotionally stunted, Henry is tired of fixing the twins' issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Up, The Frye twins have a feels fest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:07:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wookiekisses/pseuds/wookiekisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jacob had left, he left Freddy standing in the ashes of the disaster the Templars had caused. Freddy had been broken by it, but had eventually moved on. And was broken again. It is now January 1869, and Freddy is so, so tired of Jacob Frye ruining his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snow

**January, 1869**

 

Frederick stomped through the snow, hating how it clung to his coat, his shoes, his moustache, his everything. It was wet, heavy, oppressive, cold, and perhaps the only reason he hated it so much was because it reminded him of how he felt lately. A carriage sprayed him with icy muck as he attempted to cross the street and he refrained from letting out a litany of expletives if only to keep from getting reprimanded at work again. After the kidnapping fiasco, Freddy had been on thin ice at the Met. His absences then had been excused once the story broke that the Blighters had kidnapped a Scotland Yard officer in the hopes of drawing the police away from their activity, but then he had racked up a whole new series of absences when Martha had gotten sick and then, only two months after their wedding, died. He reached up and pressed his hand against the necklace he wore beneath his clothes. His wedding band hung on a cord, along with a shilling that had had a hole drilled through it, reminders of the people who had left him behind. Jacob had left his shilling necklace behind when he had fled London, leaving a note that stated that he couldn't take a token of Evie's love for him with him when the two had parted on such awful terms. Evie hadn't been able to keep the necklace on her, it had hurt too much to even imagine where Jacob was, and so she passed it on to Freddy when she visited him at the hospital. 

Fucking Jacob. 

Frederick slammed into someone, failing to pay attention since he was caught up in his angry thoughts and personal pains, and barely managed to apologize as he continued on his way. He cut through an alleyway that would take him to Scotland Yard more quickly and froze when he heard footsteps behind him. His hand immediately went to his gun, paranoia always present since his kidnapping, and he kept walking. 

"It's not very polite to just walk into someone and not apologize you know."

Annoyance flared up in Frederick's gut and he reeled around, ready to verbally eviscerate the idiot who had followed him. The words died on his tongue when he saw who was standing in the mouth of the alleyway though. His coat was new, brown leather trimmed with a rich navy velvet, but his cap and boots hadn't changed. His beard was a bit more well trimmed, but the scar cutting through it on one side of his face and the other splitting his eyebrow were still there. The smile painted over lush lips was nervous, and for good reason. 

"You son of a bitch," Frederick hissed, his hand dropping away from his gun as he stalked over to Jacob. "You absolute son of a bitch." 

Jacob perked up, his eyes hopeful, and Frederick knew that he was hoping that he was about to receive the most passionate reunion kiss of his life. 

Frederick's fist flew and he punched Jacob so hard that the Assassin's head whacked against the brick behind him. 

In a way, it had been a kiss, knuckles meeting lips, and so Frederick smirked to himself as he turned around and continued on his way to work, leaving a dazed and rather upset Jacob Frye sprawled out on his arse in a back alley. 


	2. Turbulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob begins to put things on the mend. Freddy loses his temper.

Jacob never thought that London could feel so cold, but as he sat there in the snow, nose bleeding sluggishly, lip throbbing, icy water seeping into the seat of his trousers, he couldn't think of a colder place on earth. He hadn't known what to expect from Freddy, but it certainly hadn't been that. Sure, some anger, maybe a few choice words, but never that look of pure, unadulterated loathing accompanied by a punch.

"Maybe I deserved that," Jacob sighed after a few minutes, rubbing his jaw as he picked himself up. Unsure of what to do now, he took to the rooftops and meandered towards one of the tracks that the train usually took. He had no clue if Evie had changed the route or even decommissioned the train-God he hoped not-but he would wait.

Watching tendrils of smoke rise from the trains as they chugged by, slower now because of the wet, potentially treacherous tracks, was cathartic in a way Jacob couldn't fathom, and so by the time his train was visible on the line, he knew he was ready to see Evie. His heart was racing before he even began running, but leaping into the train wasn't a motion he had lost despite months without practice. He slipped into the Rooks' car, empty for once, and walked down to the car he had mostly resided in when he was last in London, prior to Freddy and the flats however.

The first thing he got was a gun to the face, Evie staring down the barrel with hard eyes until she realized who she was pointing the gun at. She lowered it shakily and stared at her brother as if she hadn't seen him in decades instead of months, and Jacob waited on tenterhooks to see what she would do. The air felt thick, tense even, and he braced himself for another punch, but then Evie was tossing the gun away and launching herself at Jacob, sobbing happily into the side of his neck as she hugged him tighter than she had in years.

"You stupid, stupid oaf," she mumbled, shaking, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Me leave London forever? Are you crazy?" Jacob teased, his eyes feeling damp at the edges as he patted Evie's back and smoothed her hair back.

"You just left Jacob, what was I supposed to think? Especially after what happened to Abberline," Evie asked, pulling back to stare at him some more. "I thought you hated me because of what I said."

"I..." Jacob looked away, not so subtly wiping his eyes. "I didn't hate you. I could never hate you. I was just angry and confused and scared shitless...in the end I did it without complying with their demands but I just...I needed your help and you refused."

Evie looked at her boots, shame forcing her shoulders down.

"I don't regret telling you no Jacob. We couldn't negotiate, still can't, but...I should have offered my help instead of flat out ignoring the situation. I'm sorry."

"Accepted," Jacob smiled, squeezing Evie's hands. He froze when he felt something cold pressed against his finger and dragged her hands up.

"What...he...you...?!" he gasped, eyes flashing between Evie's face and the gorgeous yet simple ring on her finger.

"He proposed a few months ago, after I collected the last of the pressed flowers. I wanted to wait until you came back to actually go through with a wedding," Evie beamed.

"But you didn't know if I was coming back," Jacob breathed, eyes misty again for a whole new reason. Evie laughed and patted his shoulder.

"Henry gave you a year and then he wasn't waiting anymore. I thought that was more than acceptable."

"Good old Greenie," Jacob smiled. "I'll have to thank him later," he added, pulling Evie into another hug.

"For what?"

"Keeping you out of trouble?"

"Jacob, please. You're the one who gets me _into_ trouble."

Jacob laughed and let Evie go, flopping onto the chaise. It was then that Evie spotted the bruise making his lip swell.

"What happened to you? Fighting with Blighters already?" she asked, touching his chin. Something painful twisted in Jacob's gut and he looked away.

"Freddy."

It was the only explanation Evie needed before she was curling up on the chaise with her twin, hugging him tightly and violently wishing she could protect him from the world. At least he didn't know about Martha yet.

 

  
Frederick sank into his armchair with a sigh, staring at the scotch in his glass. It flickered in various shades of amber, reflecting the light from the fireplace, and it was beautiful until he threw the drink back and let the burn wash away the anger still sitting cold in his chest. It wasn't fair. How could Jacob put him through everything he did, leaving him alone, letting him fall in love again and then lose again, and then just casually saunter back into the picture as if nothing had happened? He poured himself some more scotch, the decanter clunking against the side table when he put it down, and drank. At this point Frederick had mistakenly thought that he was numb to any emotional pain, desensitized by months of grueling agony that was interrupted for a brief moment before coming back in crushing amounts. He pulled the letters from the side table drawer, smoothing them both out. The paper was beginning to weaken from all the times he had folded and unfolded the two letters, but he still kept reading them. The first, from Jacob, had been read so many times he could recite it word for word faster than he could recite the Lord's Prayer (not that he prayed anymore), and the second was always treated with the utmost delicacy.

_Frederick,_

_Thank you for filling my heart and our home with such immense joy and love. You have made these past few weeks of illness bearable, taking away the hurt each minute you spent by my bedside. I know I won't live much longer, my darling Fred, and I hate that you are going to hurt on my account. You deserve happiness, and life has often cheated you of that, I see it in your eyes. When I am gone, I pray that you eventually go out in search of the happiness we shared once more. I am grateful that God gave me the time He did to bring you something other than hurt, and I know that He will one day send another your way that will be able to do what I have, what you have for me. I love you Fred, and I want you to remember that always. You are and always will be the most important, most cherished, and most amazing person in my life. If this letter does anything, I hope that it will bring you peace. You have brought me that peace and I wish only to give it back to you in return._

_Love always,  
Martha_

Frederick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and folded the letter again, kissing it before he put it away. His fingers found the ring on his necklace and he stared into the fire. Why was it always this way? He stood abruptly and shoved the letter from Jacob into the drawer, unable to hold it any longer without throwing it into the fireplace.

"Damn it all!" he yelled, backhanding the decanter and sending it flying into the wall where it exploded. As scotch dripped down the wall and glass tinkled agains the floor, Freddy panted and wiped at his eyes. "Damn it," he whispered, burying his face in his hands to muffle the sounds of him crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering, I didn't intend for Freddy to come off as drunk, just a little emotional :3


	3. Hail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can't be serious"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now that I've started again, I can't stop.
> 
> send help.

In the time that passed before Jacob saw Freddy again, his lip had healed, his relationship with Evie had reached a natural state of ease that they had never experienced before, and the Rooks had finally,  _finally_ finished seizing the boroughs of London. They had been a bit lost, really, without Jacob there, and Jacob was glad to kick their collective arses back into working order. He apparently had a natural inclination towards gang leadership. 

He also had a natural inclination towards getting into trouble, as Frederick was forced to acknowledge. 

 

It was supposed to have been an ordinary, peaceful, boring day at work. The city's crime rates had dropped due to the blanket of snow on the ground, and so he didn't have a whole lot to do. He was grateful for this fact as he walked into Scotland Yard, not completely miserable for once. His good mood quickly vanished when he walked by the holding cell and saw a very familiar figure sitting on the bench, legs sprawled out and nobody within three feet of him even as he snored lightly.  _Fuck_ Frederick thought, walking over to the poor, bored constable sitting at the desk. 

"What's going on today?" he asked, jerking his head towards the holding cell. 

"Not a whole lot," the constable replied, flipping through the ledger. "Petty theft, the one in the grey decided to take a piss in a park, vandalism, and..." the constable squinted at the page. The block next to Jacob's name was particularly flooded, handwriting almost unreadable due to how much was crammed into one tiny box. "Drunk and disorderly, assault, destruction of property, resisting arrest, and, I quote, 'an arse load of exotic and/or unusual weaponry'." 

"So bar fight?" Frederick sighed. 

"Looks like," the constable said. Frederick walked over to the cell and rapped on the bars next to Jacob's head with his billy club. 

"Oi, you sobered up yet?" he asked. Jacob jolted into consciousness, eyes bleary for a second before sharpening with alarming speed. 

"I'd say so," Jacob grumbled, rubbing at his temples and standing up to stretch. "Am I getting out of this damned cell now?" 

"Depends, do you have the money to cover all of the damages you caused last night?" Frederick drawled. Jacob's shoulders slumped and he rubbed the back of his neck. 

"Why don't you ask the idiot that frisked me last night to check my wallet?" Jacob replied, his lips furling in agitation. Frederick rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. 

"It wasn't a frisking, it was a mandatory procedure that happens to every criminal before they are put in holding. If you weren't getting into drunken brawls and destroying bars, you wouldn't have been 'frisked' anyway."

"Yeah, well, if I had gotten an opportunity to explain myself maybe I wouldn't have been in the pub in the first place."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Frederick asked, his blood beginning to boil a bit.

"You know damn well what that's supposed to mean," Jacob hissed, leaning in to stare Frederick down. 

"I really don't," Frederick replied, refusing to back down. His jaw was squared and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Jacob really wasn't getting it, was he?

"These things have a tendency to happen when, instead of listening to a heartfelt apology, some prick decides to punch me in the face!" Jacob yelled, his temper flaring.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have done something so utterly stupid that you needed to apologize!" Frederick screamed back. Both men's faces were flushed a dangerous shade of red, and neither of them realized they had each other by the shirt until the constable at the desk spoke up. 

"P-pardon Sergeant A-Abberline, but, um, uh, I d-don't think yer supposed to do that sir," he stammered. Frederick released Jacob's shirt and shoved him back roughly. 

"Quite right Constable, I apologize. Do me a favour and keep this between us, yeah?" Frederick asked, walking over to the desk as he straightened out his waistcoat. The constable nodded shakily. 

"Of course sir." 

"Thank you. When Mister Frye is released, do make sure someone escorts him  _off_ of the premise. He has a tendency to pop up where he isn't wanted whenever he thinks it's a wise idea to argue with someone," Frederick said. He left the room without sparing Jacob a second glance. 

 

 

 

 

Breaking into Freddy's apartment wasn't the brightest idea Jacob had ever had, especially considering the altercation they had had at Scotland Yard, but he had done it anyway and he was paying for it now with a broken nose and a second gun being pointed at his head in just as many weeks. 

"Freddy, please," Jacob pleaded, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with a handkerchief. 

"Get out," Freddy snarled, jerking the pistol in the direction of the door. 

"Not until you listen to me," Jacob said, although his voice sounded odd considering he was now pinching his nostrils shut. Which hurt like hell. Why did he have feelings for a police officer again? 

"Get out!" Freddy yelled, cocking the gun. Jacob froze and something in him hardened. Was Freddy really,  _really_ threatening to shoot him? Suddenly, Jacob's sense of self preservation when diving out the window. 

"Are you really going to shoot me Freddy?" he hissed, stepping closer to Freddy. Freddy's arm didn't waver. "Going to put a bullet through my brain because I hurt your feelings? Go ahead then." 

Freddy's face paled as Jacob pressed his forehead against the muzzle of the gun and stared him in the eye. Bruises were forming around his eyes, and with the blood still fresh on his face and staining his bared teeth, he looked deranged. 

"Do it." 

 

Frederick's stomach turned and he wrenched the gun away, barely thinking to empty the chambers before he threw it away from himself. Something in Jacob's face told him that Jacob wasn't actually sure that he wouldn't shoot him. Something in Jacob's face told him that Jacob might have actually wanted him to. Frederick ran his hands through his hair and then pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. 

"You shouldn't stop pinching your nose shut for another few minutes," he muttered pathetically. Jacob spat some blood into his own handkerchief and then took the one Frederick was offering. 

"You shobn't pistol whip beoble den," Jacob growled. 

"And what else am I supposed to do when I open my door and someone I can't see properly is standing in my flat?" Frederick asked, throwing his hands up in the air. "Do you remember what happened the last time that happened?" 

He regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth. The sting of them forced Jacob to turn away and walk towards the window. When he was safely across the room, staring out at a much nicer view of London than Frederick's last flat had had, he mumbled something inaudible. 

"What?" Frederick asked, all of the harshness in his voice gone. Part of him wanted to walk over and wrap his arms around Jacob, press his face into that warm spot between his shoulder blades and kiss the back of his neck until the tension finally left him. That part made the part of him that wanted to wring Jacob's neck screech in anger. 

"How can I forget?" Jacob repeated, his voice a tad clearer but still nasally. "How can I forget when it haubts me ebery night?"

"Jacob..." Frederick sighed, taking a small step towards the man. Jacob's shoulders immediately drew closer together and Frederick could see his free hand twitching subtly. It was a gesture that Frederick had come to understand as defensive; whenever Jacob felt threatened, his hands twitched, almost as if he was longing to activate his hidden blades in an effort to protect himself. Frederick had never been the cause of such a gesture before, and it ached. 

"I don't need your pity," was the harsh reply he got. 

"Who said it was pity?" Frederick asked, hands flying out in irritation. 

"I can hear it in your boice."

"Well perhaps you should get your hearing checked. I would never pity you." 

Jacob spun on his heel and the expression on his face was equal parts rage and heartbreak. Frederick couldn't tell if the glittering in his eyes was anger or unshed tears. Possibly a combination of the two. 

"You don't get to act this angry wib me," Jacob seethed, somehow still pinching his nose shut. Frederick would have forgotten his injury if he was the bleeding one in the situation. 

"Oh, I don't? And why is that? Because you left out of some sense of duty? Because you thought that leaving me here  _alone_ was going to keep me safe?!" Frederick screeched. He didn't care if the neighbours heard. The walls of this building were thick anyway. It would be impressive if anyone could discern any words out of the muffled shouting that Frederick himself heard whenever someone in the building got into a row. 

"YOU GOT MARRIED!" Jacob roared, finally flinging the handkerchief aside. His nose appeared to have stopped bleeding, but now a tear had finally escaped him. "I left to keep you safe and you, you, you moved on. I've been gone less than a year and you got married. Did I mean anything to you?" 

Frederick's throat clenched when Jacob's voice broke. The younger man sounded so lost in that moment, and Frederick almost hated himself for it through the anger that was nearly blinding him. 

"Don't you dare," Frederick started, marching towards Jacob once more. "Don't you dare bring her up.  _You_ left  _me_ , and you told me not to wait around, that you weren't worth it. How  _dare_ you accuse me of not caring about you?" 

"It wasn't even six months and you got married. I couldn't even speak to anyone else at that point, let alone marry them. Hell Freddy, the last time I had sex with someone other than you I vomited and then cried. Me! Over sex!" Jacob's hands were twitching again. 

"Oh boo hoo, you couldn't go out and whore around like you used to. I lost my  _wife_ you bastard." 

"Do you know what it took to choose to leave you?!" Jacob screamed. 

"Do you know what it did to me when I found out that you left?!" Frederick countered. 

"Obviously NOTHING!"

Frederick's hand flew up, and before he even realised he was throwing a punch, Jacob caught his fist in his hand. 

"Fuck you and your damn wife Abberline," Jacob choked out. Up close, his face was a mottled mess of bruises and blood and tears, but nothing could top the horror Frederick felt when he saw the look in Jacob's eyes. A hand closed around his hip and Jacob ducked down, pressing his lips roughly, brutally, desperately to Frederick's, and Frederick barely had time to respond before Jacob sobbed against his lips and wrenched himself away. He darted back to the window and threw it open, perching on the windowsill in a flash. 

"I know this is my fault Freddy, but I thought you'd be different." 

"Different how?" Frederick asked, his voice raspy. 

"I didn't think you could hurt me like they did," Jacob murmured. Frederick knew he was talking about Attaway, Roth, all the others before him that had twisted the Assassin's heart, bruised it, broken it. 

"Did I?" he asked. 

"No."

"Then why bother mentioning it?" Frederick snapped. 

"Because until I came back, you hadn't hurt me." 

Frederick turned away and put his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes until they ached. 

"If you hadn't left none of this would have happened," he managed to choke out. Silence. 

When he turned back around, Jacob was gone. The only sign he had ever even been in the flat was the gun laying on the ground and the bloody handkerchief by the window. 

 

Frederick Abberline had never felt so conflicted. 

 


	4. When it Rains

The wind bit through Jacob's coat, making him shiver violently as he clung to the roof he was perched on, but it was a welcome distraction. Nothing seemed to be helping to shake the fog that had fallen over him after his last fight with Freddy. He couldn't go fight in Topping's ring thanks to his broken nose, he had been pulled off of active missions since he botched the last one because of how distracted he was, and Evie had put him on an alcohol ban. He had tried to go into several pubs and buy, but apparently his devil of a sister had paid them all off, telling them that they weren't to serve him anything other than water until she said otherwise. 

So he stuck to climbing roof tops and thinking. Not brooding, thinking, fuck you very much Evie. 

It wasn't overly helpful, the thinking. If anything it just made the fog thicker and the hurt worse. Freddy had a point; if he hadn't left, he would have never lost Freddy. He had told Freddy to move on, to forget about him, and Freddy had done just that. He shouldn't have been surprised. Freddy was a lovable, kind man with a big heart. Anyone would be lucky to have a partner or spouse like him, and Jacob knew that Freddy had more than enough love to spare. 

Just not for him anymore. 

A few tiles clinked as Jacob shifted his weight, pulling his hood more snugly around his ears. He'd have to climb down soon and warm up; he was already risking frostbite. Part of him, the destructive part that had only been growing in strength and influence as of late, whispered that he should just sit up there until his fingers fell off. The other part of him told that voice to fuck off and that he didn't really want to die. Not like that anyway. 

He felt useless though, lost in a way he hadn't since before Ethan had died. He was an Assassin, always had been whether he liked it or not, and now he wasn't allowed to do the one thing he had been good at. A sigh escaped him in a cloud of condensation, crackling around him. 

"Rough day, hm?" 

The voice made Jacob jolt so violently he slid a few feet down the roof, scrambling for purchase before catching himself by slamming his grappling hook into the tiles. The damage didn't look severe, but Jacob still winced as he looked at the cracks spreading out from the hook like spiderwebs. Shit. A gloved hand closed around his arm and pulled him back onto the flat bit of the roof where he had been sitting, and Jacob knew just by the buttons on the coat whose arm it was. This day couldn't get much worse. 

"Something like that," he managed to get out, avoiding looking at the man crouched behind him. 

"Evie told me you've been having a time of it...I figured I'd find you up here." 

"No thanks to her...or you." The barb was directed, but it wasn't exactly potent. Freddy sighed, the warmth of it ghosting along the back of Jacob's neck, and then he plopped down beside the Assassin. 

"I shouldn't have lost my temper," Freddy said after they sat in tense silence for a few long minutes. Jacob grunted in acknowledgement, still not looking at the Sergeant. His heart was lodged firmly between his collar bones and his throat felt dryer than sand, but he was paralyzed where he sat. He hated surprises. Perhaps the top of Scotland Yard wasn't the best place to brood, but some sick part of him wanted to be near Freddy even though Freddy was the reason he was like this. 

"We owe each other explanations and apologies I think," Freddy pressed when he realized Jacob wasn't going to talk. "But perhaps we should go inside for that. I don't want to freeze to death up here and I'm pretty sure that your nose is turning blue." 

Jacob just got up and followed Freddy wordlessly. 

 

 

 

The flat was covered in a thick layer of dust, thick enough that Jacob grimaced as he pushed open the door to the flat that had been his temporary home. Evie had apparently been paying his rent for him in the hopes that he would come back, but nobody had set foot into the flat since Jacob had left. There was luckily some wood stacked next to the fireplace, and Jacob made a beeline for it. The slow, methodical work of starting a fire soothed his frayed nerves ever so slightly, and he was glad that Freddy didn't talk as he went about the task. Jacob wasn't entirely sure what he could or would say to the man, so he figured he would let Freddy talk first. 

Once the fire was crackling merrily, filling the dusty room with warmth and a bit of light, Freddy cleared his throat. 

"Why are you so angry with me?" he asked. Jacob let his eyes fall shut and he basked in the dry heat licking at his face, making his skin feel taut. 

"I don't know," Jacob said after a moment. 

"You don't know?"

Jacob sighed. 

"Maybe I had hoped you'd..." Jacob's voice trailed off and he shook his head. "Maybe I had hoped you'd have wanted me back as badly as I wanted to be back." 

"You told me to move on Jacob. The letters you wrote to me, to Evie, you made it seem like you were never going to come back. We didn't even know if you were in England anymore," Freddy murmured, taking a few steps towards Jacob. Jacob finally stood, knees cracking as he did so, and his shoulders rose and fell hopelessly. 

"Part of me didn't want to come back," he admitted. 

"Why?"

Finally looking at the Sergeant, Jacob gave the man a small, sad smile. He longed to reach out, to twine their fingers together and hold Freddy tight to his chest until all he could smell was the man's skin and their body heat combined to make the heat of the fireplace unbearable. His chest felt hollow, heart having attempted to gnaw its way out of Jacob's self inflicted loneliness, but he couldn't bear being rejected again. Freddy wasn't his anymore. 

"Because I didn't want anyone to have a reason to use you against me again," Jacob explained. Freddy's lips furled downward, his moustache twitching, and he scratched at his jaw.

"You do realise that I'm not completely helpless, don't you?" Freddy asked. Jacob couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"I know...but the training you get from the police...it's not enough Freddy. The Templars fight like us, like me and Evie.  And they've got so much goddamned power that even if something very public happened to you to make a statement, none of them would ever be touched."

Freddy hummed in acknowledgement. 

"Isn't that why you killed Starrick?" he asked. 

"Starrick was just one cog in the machine Freddy. It'll take years, decades even, to get the Templars out of England," Jacob murmured. 

"Then why are there only three of you in London?" 

"Because the Brotherhood gave up on London...I didn't." 

 

 

 

Silence fell between them for a while, and then Frederick couldn't take it anymore.

"I can't apologise for loving her you know," he murmured. He hated the way Jacob shrank in on himself, making the bulky, normally imposing man seem like a pint sized version of the Assassin he was, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out and touch Jacob's shoulder, to reassure him the way he knew Jacob needed. 

"I wouldn't expect you to," Jacob replied, although his voice cracked a bit at the edges. The corners of the man's eyes were creased and Frederick could read the jealousy and self-loathing in them. He had trouble comparing this Jacob to the one he had known before everything had gone to hell. This was a mere wisp of a man in comparison, a shade where there was once a living, breathing, fighting man. 

"We met shortly after I was released from the hospital," Frederick revealed, twisting his gloves between his hands. "Her father is a labourer and they had moved to London so that he could make better money."

Jacob stared at Frederick, stunned. Frederick hadn't talked about Martha much since she died, but now that he had started, he found it hard to stop. It was as if Jacob had blown up the damn disconnecting him from his emotions, and now everything was flooding out. 

"She had gotten lost and was looking for a clock maker's, her father's pocket-watch had broken, and asked me for directions. I tried to explain how to get to where she was going, but she was so new to the city that it just was easier for me to walk her there," he continued, plowing on through the ache. "By the time we got to the shop she had invited me to call on her the next evening. I...hadn't been intending to go, but I went, and that was about it. I knew I wanted to marry her the second I realised that I wasn't hurting so badly anymore. She picked up the pieces you left behind and put them back together again Jacob, and god did I love her. Still do. It's...different now, but I love her." 

"I'm sorry," Jacob said. "What...what happened?" 

"Tuberculosis. We didn't even know she was sick until it was too late." 

Frederick's hand immediately went up to fiddle with the ring around his neck and Jacob froze as the metal caught the light. Frederick hadn't thought about the image that that combination would evoke, only thinking about wanting pieces of those he had loved and lost near him always. 

"Where did you get that?"

"Evie gave it to me to hold on to. I suppose you'll be wanting it back though," Frederick said, going to untie the cord. 

"No," Jacob said, pushing Frederick's arm down. The warmth of his hand burned through the sleeves of Frederick's shirt and jacket. "I want you to have it." 

Frederick swallowed heavily as their eyes met, Jacob's hand still on his arm. He hadn't realised how much he had missed Jacob until just now, now that the anger seemed to have abated. Jacob apparently was thinking something similar because he stepped forward, crowding into Frederick's space like he so often did, and cupped Frederick's face in his hands. 

"She was lucky to have had you, and I can't lie and say that I'm not jealous...but I can think of nobody else who deserves love more than you do," Jacob murmured, his thumb tracing the deep scar that now marred the side of his face. Frederick found himself leaning into the touch, and his heart throbbed as he remembered a smaller, more delicate set of fingers tracing the same scar, soft, full lips kissing the hurt away whenever Frederick found himself missing Jacob or whenever he woke from a nightmare of his time in captivity. He didn't feel as conflicted as he thought he would though. Jacob and Martha shared the belief that Frederick deserved love, and Frederick would be lying if he said that love wasn't something that he craved at almost every turn. His life was a highly solitary one, a path of loneliness every really broken by the most persistent individuals. He didn't want to trust Jacob, but he felt himself already beginning to forgive him as Jacob pressed just a bit closer and cupped the back of Frederick's head. 

This kiss wasn't full of anger and hurt, but was actually rather gentle. Jacob's lips were as wind chapped as ever, but they moved with a dexterity and softness that had always left Frederick short of breath. A low whine escaped Frederick as he returned the kiss, but the moment was shattered when Jacob suddenly jerked away. 

"I...god, Freddy, I'm so..." Jacob's face was contorted with horror, several shades darker than usual, and Frederick furrowed his brows. 

"What?" 

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry Freddy. I'm so, so sorry. I...I need to go," Jacob rambled, and then he was flying from the room, the window letting a blast of icy air in as Jacob scrambled up the fire escape and away on the rooftops. 

"This is your flat though," Frederick whispered to the empty room. 

He didn't leave until the fire burned out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in the Ripper DLC Freddy doesn't have any scars, at least not from what I could tell, but hey. Canon divergence!


	5. It Pours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How was I supposed to know what me leaving would do to him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the overwhelming response to this piece <3 I love you guys. I really need comments like that some days, especially on the days where my mother tells me that my future career aspirations are pointless...so. I'm a tad melancholy and so is this chapter. Soz.

"What's happened?"

The question was not one that Jacob wanted to answer, but he was shuddering from the cold and he had no clue whether or not Freddy was still in his flat, meaning that he was stuck on the train for the night. 

"Freddy," he replied gruffly, avoiding Evie's gaze as he began to strip off layer after snow soaked layer of clothing. 

"Well I figured that much out just by the kicked puppy look on your face," Evie said, grabbing each layer Jacob had shed off of the floor so she could hang them to dry. 

"Thanks for that by the way," he growled. It wasn't a betrayal per se, but Jacob was thoroughly pissed at Evie for disclosing his whereabouts to Freddy. He was tired of her treating him like a child, like he was so much younger than her that she needed to solve all of his problems for him. He had had time away to lick his wounds and escape her criticism, but the behaviour was still there and it still smarted each time it surfaced. 

"You're welcome," she smirked, shoving him into the desk chair. "Did you talk?"

"Unfortunately," Jacob murmured. He was grateful that she was behind him now, unable to read the confusion and hurt written on his face, and he relaxed into the chair as she began to towel the icy water out of his messy hair. 

"And?"

"And I feel like a proper arse now. I mean, how was I supposed to know what me leaving would do to him?"

Evie was silent for a moment, no doubt carefully plotting out her next few words. Both of them knew that the wrong response would send Jacob off of the edge he was so precariously perched upon, that thin line between appropriate remorse and loneliness, and the deep pit that was unrestrained self-loathing. 

"Did it hurt you?" she finally asked.

"You know it did," Jacob immediately replied, but without venom. 

"Imagine how much worse it would have been if you hadn't had a say in the matter," she said, scrubbing behind his ears with the towel to give him some level of physical reassurance in case her words bit too harshly. "Frederick didn't have a say in whether or not he lost you...you made that choice for him."

Jacob winced at that and put his head in his hands, breaking the physical connection between him and Evie. His stomach clenched a bit, but he wasn't able to deny that she was right. 

"Why does he still wear my necklace then?" he asked, hating how his voice cracked. "He wears it with his wedding band on the cord too. If I hurt him so badly, why does he do that?" 

"I'm not sure," came the honest reply. "But I think it says a lot about the place that you held in his heart, and the place that you currently hold there as well, don't you?"

Jacob couldn't bring himself to reply, and instead sat staring at a lamp until sleep took him. 

 

It had been three weeks since the foolish kiss in Jacob's flat, and winter's icy grip still had not loosened on London. It was taking a toll. Jacob had taken to collecting old or unwanted clothing to distribute to the unfortunately growing number of homeless roaming the frigid streets, particularly Clara's urchins, and yet more people froze to death each night. Many of the city's upper class turned Jacob away at their doors, thinking him to be another beggar, but it seemed that those who were less fortunate were far more generous. 

"Thank you Mrs. Canson," Jacob breathed as the lovely old widow dumped another load of knitted hats and gloves into his arms. She had turned out to be his most generous supporter, and one of the few of London's wealthy that were willing to help. Her husband had passed many years ago, leaving her with far too much money and free time. She had taken to knitting hats, scarves, and gloves for those that Jacob wanted to help, delighting in getting to help keep children safe. She had never had any children of her own, and so she was starting to fawn over the urchins that often helped Jacob make these trips. She was certainly becoming a favourite of Clara's ragtag band of urchins. 

"Of course dear. Just make sure that the children know to keep moving at night," she beamed, pulling her shawl more tightly around her shoulders as the wind howled by them. 

"By the end of winter they'll all be nocturnal, trust me," Jacob grinned. Mrs. Canson had actually been the one to suggest to Jacob that the children (and any of the other homeless that would listen) take to sleeping during the day and moving around at night. It had proven to be surprisingly effective. When there was no warmth to be gotten from the sun, the urchins would take to the streets, running around, playing quiet games of football, and visiting the Rooks on watch in order to keep warm. While the day wasn't much better, they were far more likely to wake up if they slept when the sun was up. Jacob had also convinced some of the livery stables in Rook controlled boroughs to agree to let children take shelter in their stables, and some of the older children had even taken to working for the liveries to earn their keep and some extra coin. He had yet to find a home that would shelter the kids, London wasn't that trusting, but he would take what help he could get. His empty flat was filled from wall to wall with those who needed shelter the most: the sick, and those who were too young, small, and weary to combat the freezing cold. It wasn't enough. 

A few children immediately clustered around him as he started walking down the street, begging for hats and gloves and attention, and so he shoved his load into the hands of the oldest child in the group, a boy named Robbie, and swept a pair of young, baby faced twins up into his arms. With a child on each hip, he found himself grinning from ear to ear, and the girl began to gently pluck at his beard. 

"Oi, watch that," Jacob laughed as she tugged a bit roughly, playfully snapping his teeth at her. She squealed in delight and snatched her hands away as her brother lifted Jacob's cap off his head and put it on his own. It was far too big and dropped down over his eyes, but the sight was so endearing that Jacob couldn't scold him. 

"Mister Jacob, can we play football?" the girl asked. Jacob hummed thoughtfully at that. 

"Perhaps if you are very, very good and help us deliver these clothes, we can play football for a short while after its all done," he replied. The girl clapped happily and bounced around in his arm as her brother shoved the cap up to grin at Jacob. 

"I bet you I can score more than you," he said, egging his sister on. She scowled at him and stuck out her tongue, and a warm fondness settled in Jacob's chest. They reminded him of himself and Evie when they were younger, although these twins had curly red hair and brown eyes, back before all of the Assassin training started and his father became his enemy and his sister a stranger. 

"Well that's a first," a voice said, and Jacob sucked in a sharp breath as Freddy seemed to materialise out of nowhere and fell in alongside Jacob. 

"What is?" Jacob asked, ignoring the way his throat tightened. Why did Freddy have to show up now?

"Someone calling you 'Mister Jacob'," Freddy smiled, gesturing at the cluster of children following Jacob around like little lost ducklings. 

"We all call 'im Mister Jacob, s'only polite," one boy in the group said, glaring up at Freddy fiercely. Jacob preened inwardly at that, thrilled to have won the love and trust of so many of Clara's urchins, and smirked at Freddy. 

"They all call me Mister Jacob, Freddy," Jacob parroted, barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out. Freddy's cheeks coloured, the cold caused pink turning darker. Jacob's heart skipped a bit at that and he itched to reach out and pull Freddy into his side. He settled for squeezing the twins tightly, grunting affectionately as they both wrapped their arms around Jacob and hugged him back. 

"So what exactly are you doing anyway?" Freddy asked, nodding at the mountain of winter gear in Robbie's hands. 

"Delivering winter wear to those in need," Jacob responded. Freddy arched a brow. "No, really, that's exactly what I'm doing." 

"I didn't take you for a philanthropist Mister Frye." 

"When I came to London I wanted to make this city a better place. If I can't put a roof over everyone's head and a meal on everyone's plate, the least I can do is try to make it so that they don't freeze to death," Jacob said. Freddy's face softened at this and he tucked his hands into his pockets. 

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance then," Freddy said. Jacob couldn't help but grin at that. 

"Well then you are more than welcome to join us Sergeant Abberline."

 

 

A few hours later Frederick found himself standing in an empty lot near the Devil's Acre watching Jacob play football with a few of the children he had brought clothing to. It was clear to Frederick that the children adored the Assassin, feeling safe enough around him to let their guards down and their actual ages show. How a man whose hands were stained in blood could also be so gentle, Frederick had no idea, but it made him smile nonetheless. 

A few boys ganged up on Jacob and tripped him, or so it seemed, Jacob toppling into the snow and then proceeding to roll around dramatically as children dog piled on top of him. His laughter rang out above the laughs of the children, or at least it caught Frederick's attention the most, and Frederick's chest tightened when he caught a glimpse of Jacob sprawled out on the snow, wrestling children off of him carefully with his hair sprayed across the snow and red painting the bridge of his nose and the arches of his cheekbones. Without even realising it, he was reaching up and squeezing his necklace tightly, tight enough to feel the press of metal against his fingers despite the thickness of his gloves. Jacob was without a doubt the most confusing, frustrating, idiotic, brazen man he had ever known, and yet he was also incredibly beautiful. Frederick wanted to reach out, brush a kiss across his cheeks, but he knew that the move would be unwelcome, especially in public. 

"Hey, why're you just standing there Freddy? Join in!" Jacob called from the ground. Frederick sighed and shook his head fondly before placing his bowler on a fence post and hiding his pistol beneath it. 

 

 

They played until the children were properly worn out, and by the time Jacob began panting only a few of the oldest kids were left. Freddy was darting forward, trying to keep the ball away from one of the girls, and Jacob slowed down a bit to watch the show. Rebecca stole the ball from him and kicked it towards Jacob, who caught it easily with the inside of his foot and started dribbling towards the other end of the lot where the goal was marked off with an abandoned fire barrel and a broken fence post. Freddy, who apparently had a competitive streak a mile wide, raced towards Jacob in an effort to steal the ball back. Kids were shouting for both men, having apparently taken a liking to the goofy Sergeant who was just as loving as Jacob but stiff enough to make him amusing to them, and Jacob was almost there. He ignored Freddy, thinking that the man wouldn't catch up before he scored, but then a foot was hooking around his ankle and Jacob was falling face first. A body collided with his own, slamming him to the ground forcefully, and he groaned as he rolled onto his back. 

"Well hello there Sergeant Abberline," Jacob purred, falling back into his default flirtatious manner because he honestly had no idea what else to do with the Sergeant sprawled out on top of him. Freddy's face flushed and he pushed himself up onto his arms. His weight shifted pleasantly and both men sucked in a sharp breath, but then Freddy was rolling off of Jacob like Jacob was on fire. 

"Sorry Frye," Freddy breathed, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. Jacob nodded, straightening out his jacket and dislodging a knife handle out from his back. Ouch. 

"It's fine," Jacob murmured. For the rest of the game both men were thrumming with tension, and by the time the sky was lighting up in a thousand different shades of purple, red, and pink, Jacob was ready to either pin Freddy to the wall and kiss him breathless or go home and wank until he forgot what his name was. He kept his cool as the urchins dispersed, all either heading to a warm place to sleep or roaming about the streets to keep warm, but he was visibly tense as Freddy gathered his belongings and walked up to him. 

"That was..." Freddy began, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jacob without making eye contact. "That was nice." 

"Yeah," Jacob replied, feeling rather awkward about the whole thing. He had no idea where his feelings lay, whether or not he was permitted to reach out and touch Freddy or if he still had penance to pay, and he wasn't getting anything from Freddy's hard to read facial expression. 

"I've missed moments like this," Freddy admitted. 

"Like what?"

Freddy gestured between them and then around the lot. 

"Like this. Just...being happy."

"I...make you happy?" Jacob asked, brows furrowing. He was genuinely surprised by that. He had thought that his presence in Freddy's life was now a painful reminder of all that Jacob had put the man through. 

"When you're not being a complete tit and running away from your problems, yes," Freddy immediately replied. Jacob's lips twitched in amusement. 

"Good thing I learned my lesson then, hm?" Jacob asked, and Freddy finally looked at him. 

"Have you?" he asked. Jacob nodded slowly. "Then what was it?" Freddy asked. 

"That any of the hurt that I felt while away was, without a doubt, tenfold for you. That I took any say you had in the matter away from you by acting without talking to you first. That the only person I have any right to be angry with or upset at is myself," Jacob said. They were, unfortunately, eerily similar to Evie's words, but accurate nonetheless.

"And?" 

"And what?" 

"And have you learned that I am not some delicate little thing Mister Frye?" Freddy almost purred, stepping up into Jacob's space. Jacob swallowed roughly but stood his ground. 

"I never said you were delicate," he nearly squeaked. Freddy chuckled darkly and his eyes flickered briefly to Jacob's lips. 

"You treated me like I was. Like I was defenseless. I know you think I can't one up an Assassin or a Templar or whatever the hell other crazy secret orders exist, but you're wrong," Freddy whispered, leaning in close. Jacob licked his lips and waited for Freddy to kiss him. Instead, a foot caught around his ankle and Jacob was on the ground in an instant. Freddy was on top of him, a knife to his throat and his pistol in hand, thankfully uncocked. 

"Freddy?" 

"Yes Jacob?" 

"If you don't get up right now, I cannot be responsible for my actions," Jacob gasped, his arms twitching. Freddy smirked at him and slid the gun into its holster, but he caressed Jacob's cheek with the blunt side of the knife, Jacob's beard rasping against the metal. The Assassin whined low in his throat and his pupils widened. Suddenly the knife was gone and Freddy's mouth was by Jacob's ear. 

"You have twenty minutes to meet me at my flat before I lock the door...and the windows," the Sergeant whispered. There was a hint of teeth against Jacob's ear lobe, and then Freddy was striding down the street acting as if none of that had even happened. Jacob ran his hands over his face. 

"What the fuck?" he whispered to nobody in particular. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't actually know if sleeping in the day versus at night actually works, I did some research but couldn't find anything definite, but I know that your body temperature drops when you sleep so it makes more sense to me to sleep when its warmer? Idk. I wouldn't recommend trying it, I'm literally making shit up as I go here. 
> 
> I'm sure you're all aware by this point that there will be smut in the next chapter, followed by emotions and talking because our boys do nothing in the right order. Woo!


	6. A Brief Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob had no idea what he had done in a past life to warrant this much confusion, but as long as Freddy remained by his side he was willing to accept the chaos that his life had become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost entirely smut. Like I wrote an unreasonable amount of porn here. I apologise for what is essentially like 2000000000 words of foreplay with some BDSM undertones. Whoops. Oh, and some feelings at the end. If you don't care for smut, it ends after the dashes although they will be naked for the rest of the chapter. If that's not your cup of tea just skip to the notes at the end; I'll do a recap of any actual talking that happens because I know some people just aren't into that sorta thing :)

Jacob paced along the roof of Freddy's flat, raking his fingers through his hair. Did he go in? Did he leave? He still had, oh, four minutes according to his pocket watch, and he knew that Freddy was waiting for him. 

_You never know until you try_ Evie's voice whispered in his head. She had often said that to him in their younger days when he was too stubborn or scared to go out on a limb. She had almost had to push him off of the roof when he did his first Leap of Faith. He almost wished she were here to push him off the roof now; this was an entirely different leap of faith, a leap that both men were apparently willing to take. Jacob sighed and then started down the wall, deciding to use the door like a normal human being for once. He considered it an exercise in humility. 

 

The second he was through the door, it was being kicked shut behind him and he was being slammed into a wall. Freddy's mouth was on his instantly, his lips needy and desperate, and Jacob sank into that feeling instead of focusing on the anxiety that had had his heart pounding well before Freddy had started ravishing him. Freddy's tongue slid against Jacob's lips, a silent plea for entrance, and Jacob allowed it, shuddering at the feel and taste of Freddy's tongue against his own for the first time in months. Jacob's hands clenched into fists at his sides until Freddy pulled back, staring down at him with something akin to concern written on his face. 

"Should I not be doing this?" Freddy asked, his previously demanding hands settling on the sides of Jacob's neck. Jacob's brows furrowed. 

"If I didn't want this, it wouldn't be happening," Jacob replied, his voice hoarse. Freddy nodded and let his fingers trail up into Jacob's hair. 

"Then, Mister Frye, I suggest you  _fucking_ _touch me_ ," he hissed, and then Freddy's mouth was on his once again. Jacob moaned at the wanton demand and his hands latched on to Freddy's hips, clinging to the material of his jacket until his craving for skin became too much and he was shoving his hands under the material of Freddy's jacket to tug at his shirt and waistcoat. The shirt eventually slipped free of the waistline of Freddy's trousers and Jacob raked his nails across the small of Freddy's back. The Sergeant responded as he had the last time they had been in this sort of position and moaned, pressing up even harder against Jacob. The Sergeant's hands suddenly fisted in Jacob's hair and the Assassin gasped into his mouth, forgetting how incredible it felt to have his hair pulled like this. 

"Fuck, Freddy, I missed you," Jacob panted as Freddy began to bite his way along Jacob's jaw. 

"I missed you too," Freddy murmured, pressing a few surprisingly gentle kisses to the artery throbbing in Jacob's neck before he bit down on the junction between shoulder and neck. Jacob's knees turned to jelly and he almost dropped to the ground, but Freddy's firm body kept him where he was. He felt like an insect pinned to a collector's board, unable to escape, but unlike the insect Jacob was very much alive and did not want to escape. Freddy's admission made it so that Jacob felt no hurt or regret in this moment, and so the Assassin let his head fall back against the wall as Freddy worried at what would undoubtedly turn into the most vivid love bite Jacob had ever received. Pinned as he was, Jacob wasn't able to get his mouth on any part of Freddy's body, so he got even the best he could and started roughly dragging his nails across Freddy's back again, letting his fingers bite into Freddy's hips every so often. By the time Freddy was finished staking his borderline vampiric claim on Jacob's neck, both men were rolling their hips against each other, cocks hard and aching in their trousers. 

"Bedroom?" Jacob suggested breathlessly, taking time to examine Freddy's features when the Sergeant pulled away enough for Jacob to see his face. Freddy's eyes were dark, pupils blown, but the gentleness of his smile betrayed the underlying affection in Freddy's rough, desperate motions. That gentleness did not, however, translate to physical action, and Freddy yanked Jacob up and started marching him down the hall, attacking his mouth once again. 

In a moment of startling clarity, Jacob managed to get a better grip on Freddy's waist and turned the tables, slamming Freddy against the wall when they were halfway to the bedroom. 

"Never again," Jacob whispered, lavishing gentle kisses onto the side of Freddy's neck, his hands already working at Freddy's waistcoat. "I'll never leave again." 

Freddy whined and tilted his head to the side, silently asking for more. Jacob sucked a love bite to mirror the one Freddy had left him, but he did it with gentle sucks and teasing pinches of teeth instead of with the harshness that Freddy had used. He laved the mark with his tongue when it was properly settled into Freddy's otherwise creamy skin and then started peppering Freddy's lips with sweet, short kisses that somehow left both of them just as breathless as Freddy's forceful kiss had. Freddy thrust his hips against Jacob's and his nails scratched along the back of Jacob's neck so harshly that Jacob wasn't sure that he wasn't bleeding. 

"If you do, I'll fucking kill you," Freddy snarled, but his motions flashed from angry to loving so quickly that it left Jacob's head spinning. "I can't lose you again," Freddy added, stroking Jacob's cheek with a shaky hand. 

"You won't," Jacob murmured, catching Freddy's hand in his own and pressing a soft, loving kiss to the delicate inside of Freddy's wrist. "Not if I have anything to say about it anyway." 

 

 

When the two stumbled through the bedroom door, Frederick's actions had calmed significantly, although Jacob's coat and hat had been lost along the way. He was mildly embarrassed by the force with which he had exerted upon Jacob, but he also knew that the Assassin was more than capable of ending things if he wished, although even a simple "stop" would freeze Frederick in his tracks. He let Jacob shove him down onto his bed, a bed which he had never thought he would share with another person again, and stared up at the Assassin as he straddled his waist in a reverse of the last time they had fallen into bed together. Jacob's cheeks were painted with arousal, but his eyes were full of devotion and his hands were gently tracing every line of Frederick's body. 

"Jacob," Frederick breathed, arching up in an attempt to knock the Assassin over so that he could kiss him again. Jacob, frustratingly enough, maintained his balance and instead rolled his hips slowly, making Frederick moan as Jacob's weight dragged across his throbbing cock. "Let me kiss you please." 

Jacob immediately tipped forward at that and their lips met so sweetly that Frederick felt the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. He screwed his eyes shut and cupped Jacob's face in his hands, brushing his fingertips over the scratches he had left on the back of the other man's neck in silent apology. Jacob whined into his mouth and shivered, obviously astonished that any of this was happening and probably a bit overwhelmed. Frederick pulled back at the sound and searched Jacob's face. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, smoothing a thumb over Jacob's cheekbone. Jacob paused and then nodded shakily, pressing into Frederick's hand. 

"Just...it's just... _you_ Freddy," Jacob whispered, trailing his fingertips slowly down the sides of Frederick's neck. The sensation tickled a bit and Frederick smiled softly at the Assassin, squirming ever so slightly because of the tickling. Jacob returned the grin easily and bent down to brush their noses together in an affection nuzzle. "I don't know if you're aware of just how much space you have claimed in my murderous little heart." 

Frederick's own heart almost cracked at that, and while he wasn't ready to hear or say the words that were subtly hidden in Jacob's admission, he also knew that the breaks that Jacob's abandonment and his Martha's death had caused were starting to heal. 

"You've claimed quite a lot of space in my heart as well Jacob," Frederick admitted. Both men knew that he wasn't saying the same thing as Jacob, wasn't anywhere near ready to say it or feel it, but apparently his words were the soothing balm that Jacob needed in order to settle back into some semblance of confidence. Jacob's hands clamped down on Frederick's hips and he rolled them over easily, one arm just outside of Frederick's head so that he could loom over the Sergeant with a sultry smirk. 

"Why don't you show me then?" he suggested. Frederick grinned. 

 

 

Jacob let out a grunt as Freddy almost immediately turned the tides again, almost throwing Jacob back and into the pillows. 

"You want me to show you?" Freddy purred, hands dragging up Jacob's thighs, which fell open immediately at the touch. Freddy didn't hesitate to insert himself into the space that the movement provided, his dark grin broadening with every passing second. The scar that marred his face made the expression almost maniacal, but the undercurrent of affection in Freddy's eyes soothed any of Jacob's fears that Freddy was losing his mind. 

Whether or not Freddy let Jacob keep his sanity was another question altogether though, seeing as Freddy was slipping his bracers down and slowly unbuttoning his shirt all while staring at Jacob like he was a starving man and Jacob was the last meal he'd ever eat. Jacob reached out to help, but Freddy slapped his hands away. 

"You'll touch when I say you can," Freddy said firmly, and Jacob pouted but pressed his hands flat against the mattress, content to watch the show that Freddy was putting on. Freddy's shirt fell open easily, revealing a chest that was surprisingly more toned than it had been the last time it had been under Jacob's gaze. Apparently his surprise was evident because Freddy teasingly pinched the outside of his thigh. 

"You're not the only one whose career requires physical fitness Mister Frye," Freddy teased, tossing his shirt and waistcoat to the ground. Jacob huffed out a laugh and let his gaze trail over Freddy's body wantonly. The Sergeant had the decency to blush at the hungry look in Jacob's eyes, but he didn't flinch away. Instead, he reached forward and pinned Jacob's arms above his head. 

"Well  _hello there_ Sergeant Abberline," Jacob breathed, reminding Freddy of the moment that had led up to all of this. Freddy grinned at him and pressed a soft kiss to Jacob's lips. 

"Hello there Mister Frye," Freddy replied, moving his mouth to Jacob's ear. He teased at the lobe with his teeth for a second, sending a shudder through Jacob's body, and then tightened his grip on Jacob's wrists until the gauntlets there dug into his skin. "Do you know what I plan on doing with you?" 

Jacob's heart kicked up again and he managed to shake his head. "N-no," Jacob gasped, moaning as Freddy bit down on the side of his neck again, worrying another love bite into his skin. 

"I'm going to," Freddy whispered, licking a hot line up Jacob's throat in time with an agonizingly slow roll of his hips, "disarm you," his thumbs easily undid the top buckles of Jacob's gauntlets, "strip you bare," the second buckles were undone, "drive you mad with want," the last buckle slid free, "and then make love to you until you can't remember what year it is," he finished as both hidden blades fell to the mattress with gentle thuds. Jacob's chest was heaving and he thrust his hips up wantonly. 

"Fuck, please, Freddy, I need you," Jacob managed to get out, half mad with lust already and still almost entirely clothed. 

"I know you do Jacob," Freddy said soothingly, running his hands down Jacob's chest. Jacob's hands twitched but he kept them where Freddy had left them as the Sergeant reverently placed Jacob's hidden blades on the bedside table beside a bottle of oil. Its presence made Jacob's cock twitch, and he tried to regain some moisture in his mouth. "Just...let me do this please." 

"O-of course," Jacob stammered, knowing full well that Freddy had lost so much control over their relationship that he needed to be the one in control here. Later, Jacob would realise that perhaps Freddy's desire for control in the bedroom was a permanent thing, but he knew that right now it was also soothing to the officer in the same way that Freddy's weight on Jacob's hips was soothing to Jacob. Jacob's thoughts went temporarily offline as Freddy's fingers began delicately plucking his waistcoat buttons open, and he moved as the other man directed him to so that the material could join Freddy's clothes on the floor. 

"I can't tell you how much I have wanted this," Freddy murmured. 

"Freddy," Jacob began, but Freddy cut him off with a single look. Jacob let his jaw click shut and he swallowed roughly. 

"I used to dream about having you under me again," Freddy continued, sliding Jacob's bracers down his shoulders and then slowly unbuttoning Jacob's shirt. "About having you with me. Hell, even when I was with Martha I still wanted you near me...I...I know how hard it is for you to surrender physical control Jacob." 

Jacob nodded weakly. "I trust you," he croaked. Freddy smiled at that and dipped down to kiss Jacob almost innocently as he spread his shirt open, warm, rough hands smoothing over Jacob's chest. 

"I know you do," Freddy replied, manhandling Jacob out of his shirt. Once Jacob's shirt was off, he returned to lavish Jacob with kisses, starting out soft and then progressing until they were gasping into each other's mouths again and their teeth were clacking with the desperation of it all. 

"C'mon Freddy," Jacob demanded. He knew that the emotional exchanges were just as important as the physical, but damn it he just wanted Freddy inside of him. Freddy grinned at that and pinned his arms down. 

"Patience is a virtue Mister Frye," he whispered, sucking another love bite into Jacob's collar bone.

"I've told you before that I'm not a virtuous man," Jacob snapped, thrusting his hips into Freddy's arse. His cock was dripping, precome soaking through the material of his pants and probably beginning to show through his trousers. 

"It's a good thing you're not, or else you'd have to repent for hours by the time I'm done with you," Freddy growled. Jacob almost laughed, but then Freddy was slithering down his body and sucking at the head of his cock through his trousers. His vision whited out around the edges and he squeaked as the organ twitched. 

 

 

_"Freddy_." The moan caught Frederick by surprise and he glanced up to see Jacob's hands twisting in the sheets and his face contorted into an expression that borderlined on agony. He let Jacob's cock slip from his mouth and he kissed his hip gently. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice rough around the edges. Jacob nodded, eyes still screwed shut, and worked his jaw silently for a second. 

"I just...I don't want to come yet," Jacob managed to admit, his face and chest blushing furiously. Frederick couldn't help but chuckle and he granted the inside of Jacob's left thigh a stinging bite before sliding back up the bed to lay alongside the Assassin. Jacob's eyes finally cracked open as Frederick settled, and the look in them was so heartbreakingly vulnerable that Frederick wanted to just cuddle the hurt they had caused each other away, but Jacob's cock was also hot and damp and pressed against Frederick's stomach, so he opted for a little bit of both as he rolled Jacob onto his stomach. He uncorked the oil and poured a small amount into his palms, and Jacob tipped his hips back expectantly. 

"Not yet," Frederick whispered, kissing all along Jacob's spine before straddling his hips. He made sure to grind his cock between Jacob's cheeks teasingly, punching another whine from the younger man, but then he began to smooth his hands across the muscled planes of Jacob's back. Jacob almost melted into the mattress as Frederick massaged the oil into his skin, working out the kinks in Jacob's muscles and soothing his physical hurts. 

"Freddy, 'm gonna fall asleep if you keep this up," Jacob mumbled into the pillow after a few minutes. Frederick huffed at that and then slapped Jacob's hip lightly. 

"You'd better not," he replied.

"I'm pretty sure we've been at this for an hour already," Jacob snarked, squirming a bit. 

"I told you I was going to drive you mad with want and then make love to you until you forgot what year it was," Frederick grinned, raking his nails across Jacob's skin until goose pimples blossomed across his flesh. 

"Then  _get on with it_ ," Jacob hissed. Frederick glared at the back of the Assassin's head until the man turned to look at him and looked properly cowed by the disapproving expression on Frederick's face. 

"You will be patient," Frederick grumbled. "I promise it'll be worth it," he added, voice dipping again as he slid down Jacob's back. His mouth left a hot trail along the man's spine, and Jacob made a confused yet eager sound when Frederick knelt behind him and jerked him up onto his hands and knees. 

"What're you doing?" Jacob asked as Frederick kneaded his arse. 

"If you don't like it, just tell me and I'll stop," Frederick said in lieu of an explanation, and then he was diving between Jacob's cheeks. 

 

 

Jacob howled as Freddy's tongue brushed across his hole, fuck, Freddy was using his mouth on him  _there?_ Jacob's chest began to heave and it was all he could do not to thrust back against Freddy's devilish mouth, but he could do little to stop the whorish moans slipping out from his lips every few seconds. God, there was teeth and tongue and pressure and just...Jacob was almost positive he could come just from this, but just before he was about to, Freddy stopped. Jacob let out a sob that he'd be plenty ashamed of later and slammed one hand against the mattress. 

"What's that for, hmm?" Freddy asked, teeth catching along the smooth skin of Jacob's back as he pressed his hips into Jacob's arse and reached for the oil. 

"Freddy please!" Jacob grunted, thrusting back against the Sergeant. He was so desperate he was ready to say to hell with the oil and just guide Freddy into him, but he knew that it would be a horrible idea and that it would probably end the night for them both. Another dark chuckle escaped the sergeant and Jacob sucked in a sharp breath as one slick finger slipped into his eager body, crooking perfectly against that spot inside of Jacob that made the backs of his eyelids look like a fireworks display. "Oh god." 

"Mm, my name is Frederick but I appreciate the compliment," Freddy smarted, but Jacob could hear how wrecked he was in every tremor of his voice. He thrust against Freddy's hand in retaliation and the hand not currently torturing him inside and out settled on his hip to hold him still. 

"Please, please, Freddy, just..." Jacob panted, barely aware that he was only one finger in and already begging. Freddy pressed featherlight kisses to his skin and slipped another finger in, scissoring them deftly. 

"Shh, it's okay Jacob," Freddy whispered, curling his fingers again. Jacob grunted and reached down to squeeze his cock. He would  _not_ come early this time, no matter how much precome was dripping down his shaft, pooling on the sheets below him, and making his stomach sticky. 

"Please," Jacob whined again, and Freddy finally let out a moan. 

"I know, I know, I just don't want to hurt you," Freddy explained, the hand on Jacob's hip shaking slightly as he sped up the pace with which he was fucking Jacob on his hand. Jacob shuddered at the increase in tempo and arched his back into it. 

"You won't," Jacob grunted. 

"It's been a while Jacob," Freddy immediately replied, grinding his cock into the firm underside of Jacob's thigh. 

"Just fucking do it Freddy, please!" Jacob yelled, and Freddy's fingers were slipping out of him immediately. He gasped as the Sergeant flipped him almost harshly, but he had no time to speak before Freddy was sliding into him with one smooth stroke. 

Both of them let out broken moans, and then Freddy's arms settled to cage Jacob's head and Freddy rested their foreheads together although his eyes were squeezed shut tightly. After both of them caught their breaths, Freddy's eyes opened and he smiled at Jacob with the same easiness he would smile at Jacob before he had left, as if they were on the street and Freddy had just seen him passing by. The expression made Jacob's chest heave and he bit down on his lower lip to keep from whimpering. 

"I missed you," Freddy whispered as he drew his hips back slowly. 

"I missed you... _nnngh_ , too Freddy," Jacob gasped, interrupted as Freddy thrust back into him. 

"Did you?" Freddy asked. Jacob's eyes, which he hadn't realised had closed, snapped back open. 

"Every day," Jacob replied, reaching up with shaking hands. Freddy allowed the touch and so Jacob took to caressing the man's sides as he set a slow, rhythmic pace. 

"Why'd you leave me then?" 

Jacob almost gave Freddy the same answer he had the last time the question had been asked, but then he saw the broken look in Freddy's eyes, the tears glistening at the edges of them, and abandoned Freddy's sides to cup his face. 

"Because I was scared," Jacob whispered, drawing Freddy into a slow kiss. When Freddy finally drew back there were tears on both of their faces and neither of them knew whose they were. 

"I was scared too," Freddy mumbled as a thrust hit that spot inside Jacob perfectly. The Assassin moaned and combed a hand through Freddy's hair, his throat working as he swallowed dryly. "I didn't know where you were, if you were alive or not..."

"I'm sorry Freddy." 

Their eyes met again and both men knew this to be a genuine, heartfelt apology. A few more tears escaped Freddy, but then he was ducking down to kiss Jacob's neck, biting and licking in all the ways he knew would drive Jacob mad. Jacob gasped at the sensation and clenched around Freddy deliberately, earning himself a thrust so forceful they both scooted up the bed a bit. 

"Never leave me again," Freddy murmured, and Jacob didn't have to see his face to know that this was the closest he would ever get to hearing Freddy beg. He let out a shaky breath and held Freddy as close as he could without prohibiting his movement. 

"I won't. God, Freddy, I'm never leaving you again, I swear," Jacob rambled, the heat in his stomach reaching unbearable levels. "Fuck...Freddy, you..." 

"What?" Freddy asked when Jacob hesitated. Jacob examined Freddy's face, and then his eyes fell to the necklace clacking against Freddy's chest with every thrust. Part of him wondered if Freddy had worn it when he made love to his wife, and then realised that he didn't care. 

"I love you," Jacob admitted without even thinking about it. Freddy's eyes widened in shock and then he thrusted once, twice, three times and both of them were coming with a wail and Freddy was collapsing down on top of Jacob, both of them shaking and neither of them knowing if it was due to emotion or orgasm. 

 

\------

 

Frederick stared at the man curled up against his chest and tried to fathom how he had gotten so incredibly lucky. He had dealt with more than his fair share of heartbreak, yes, but he had also been blessed to have two people love him. Martha, who had loved him unconditionally, who had been gentle and soothing and incredible, and Jacob, who was chaos and intensity and imperfect perfection. They were almost exact opposites, but both had lined up perfectly with the jagged edges of Frederick's heart. He pressed a kiss to dark, sweaty hair and sighed. He really hadn't been expecting Jacob to say it. He knew he had been saying it without saying it earlier, but to hear it, to hear those words strung together, was slightly terrifying. Seeing it written in Jacob's surprisingly neat handwriting and hearing it in Jacob's rough, desperate tenor were two different things. Before Jacob had left, if Jacob had said it then, Frederick was almost positive he would have said it back, but now?

Now he was afraid. 

Afraid because he didn't want to betray Martha's memory by being in love again so quickly, although he had loved Jacob before he had fled. Afraid because he trusted Jacob's apology but not his promise to stay. Afraid because he needed this to be real, needed to be able to fall asleep with Jacob pressed against his chest and wake up every morning with Jacob sprawled out on top of him snoring hideously. 

"I can hear you thinking," Jacob mumbled, cracking one eye open to look up at Frederick. 

"No you can't," Frederick replied, flicking a few strands of hair into Jacob's face. Jacob blew them out of the way and then nipped at Frederick's chest affectionately. Jacob was always so... _soft_ when they were curled up in bed together, post-coital or not. Martha had never been one for cuddling, but she often reached across the small gap between them to lace her fingers between Frederick's before they fell asleep. Both forms of affection were equally as soothing for Frederick, and so he nuzzled his nose into Jacob's hair. 

"Sure I can," came the sleepy, muffled reply. 

"Then what am I thinking?" 

"You're thinking about how I said what I said...and about how the last person you shared this bed with was your wife...and I'm sure you've probably got some guilt complex going on even though I'm sure, and I'm not just saying this because I feel the way I do about you, that she would want you to be happy even though she's gone," Jacob said, yawning at one point. Frederick's eyebrows rose and he laid there in stunned silence for a minute. 

"That was...surprisingly accurate," he admitted after he regained the ability to speak. Jacob chuckled and pressed a kiss to Frederick's chest, right above where his heart was. 

"I know you surprisingly well," Jacob replied. 

"Apparently so." 

Jacob shifted until he was sitting, the blankets pooled around his hips and his pale skin nearly glowing in the tiny amount of moonlight that the between the curtains let into the room. Frederick swallowed roughly. God help him, but Jacob Frye was beautiful. Just as beautiful as Martha, if he was being honest, but a completely different kind of beauty. Martha was all curves and feminine grace, with soft, lightly tanned skin, and adorable little rolls that she tried to hide when she slouched in bed before Frederick made it a point to kiss them all before throwing her down and reminding her of just how beautiful he found her. Jacob, on the other hand, was all bulking muscle, not an ounce of fat on him, a trail of dark hair below his belly button, tattoos and scars and bruises and burns scattered across his skin, hard in all of the places that Martha was soft...except for in his heart apparently. For once, the memories and the comparisons didn't hurt and weren't accompanied by guilt. 

"I should have waited to say it. I apologise if I've made you uncomfortable," Jacob murmured, threading his fingers through Frederick's hair. Frederick propped his head up on one arm, but he made no move to sit up as well. 

"I'm not uncomfortable, just surprised," Frederick said, surprising himself with how easy it was to tell the truth. 

"Ah." The fingers in his hair stuttered for a brief moment and then resumed their leisurely movement. 

"I just...I need time," Frederick continued, sucking in a shaky breath. "Before I say it back. With words. It's a lot, you know? Losing you, then finding her, then losing her, then you coming back..."

Jacob glanced over at the other bedside table where a small framed photo of Martha sat. 

"I know. I'm not...expecting anything Freddy," Jacob said. Something in Frederick's chest clenched at that. "As long as we keep talking, keep working through all of the shit that I've done to us, I'll be content." 

"You would?" Frederick asked. Jacob normally wasn't willing to compromise. He was belligerent and assertive; it was part of his charm and all of his recklessness. 

"Yes," Jacob smiled then, "I really would. I can't keep running from my problems, and whether I'm here or in Wales or in America or somewhere so far I can't even pronounce the name of it, people will know that you are my biggest weakness. I'd rather be here, with you, able to keep you safe, than ever be away from you again." 

"I'm not helpless Jacob," Frederick reminded him, shooting the Assassin a look. Jacob let out a soft laugh and shifted so that he was mirroring Frederick's position. 

"I know you aren't, but I...I just wish you were more prepared to deal with the types of threats my enemies pose," Jacob said, gently caressing Frederick's side with his free hand. 

"Perhaps keeping me more in the loop with things might help," Frederick suggested. He did hate being left in the dark about Jacob's doings, but he also knew that if he was given some sort of warning before Jacob did something drastic, he might be better prepared to deal with any backlash. 

"Not a bad idea," Jacob agreed, fingers brushing over the light scars that Frederick's time cuffed to the ceiling had left on his wrists. 

"Some p-p-physical," Frederick yawned, eyelids drooping suddenly, "training probably wouldn't be amiss either." 

Jacob stared at him like he had just told him the mysteries of the universe and then ducked down to kiss him slowly. 

"Capital idea Freddy," Jacob grinned when they broke apart, cupping Frederick's jaw with his hand. "But...I would have to clear it with Henry and Evie first."

"Why?" Frederick asked. 

"Because if I start telling you what is actually going on, and then I start training you to fight like I do...you'd be well on your way to becoming an Assassin." 

Frederick's lips parted in surprise and he remained silent for so long that Jacob started to look anxious. 

"As long as you continue to work for the good of the city, I can't say I would be ashamed to become a part of such a group." 

"Condoning murder now, are we?" Jacob asked, kissing his cheek with such a bright grin on his face that it made Frederick's whole body feel light. 

"Only when I'm off the clock," Frederick laughed, recalling the conversation that had originally led them to this point. Jacob apparently remembered as well because he flopped down and hauled Frederick into a tight hug. 

"Thank you Freddy." It was whispered so reverently into the side of his neck that Frederick could only squeeze the back of Jacob's neck gently and press a kiss to the man's temple. 

 

When Jacob finally fell asleep, one arm draped over Frederick's waist and his head tucked under Frederick's chin, Frederick sighed in contentment and smoothed his hand down Jacob's spine. 

"Thank you for coming home," he whispered, and then he closed his eyes and let sleep take him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUTLESS RECAP: Poorly communicated feelings during sex, Jacob realises that Freddy has a bit of a control issue and is terrified to lose Jacob again, Jacob finally apologises for real to Freddy, accidentally tells him that he loves him. Freddy has a slight emotional crisis, is called out on and then talked out of it by a surprisingly astute (and cuddly) Jacob. He admits that he's not able to tell Jacob that he loves him yet, although the feeling is there. Jacob explains that as long as he and Freddy continue to work on rebuilding that trust, he'll be content with their relationship. He reveals that he's simply afraid of the Templars using Freddy as a pawn against him again, and Freddy suggests that Jacob keep him in the loop and train him if he thinks his police training isn't enough to keep him safe. Jacob admits that doing so would shove Freddy onto the path of becoming an Assassin, to which Freddy is not entirely opposed since the Assassins are doing good things for London. Jacob gets happy feels and they snuggle to sleep. 
> 
>  
> 
> So. I haven't actually decided whether or not Freddy /will/ be taking the Assassin path. It would be a HUGE canon divergence from JTR and I'm trying to mildly (mildly, itty bitty bit) stick with canon, but I haven't actually played that DLC because I'm poor so part of me doesn't give a damn. It's also fan fiction, I can do what I want...and an Assassin Freddy would be badass af. But like I said, I'm not sure. Thoughts?


	7. Petrichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm a police officer standing in a fight club with a known murderer and a bookie we can't catch. Nobody here is going to turn anyone in for anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacob starts teaching Freddy how to fight. Freddy has to use that knowledge a little sooner than he wants to.

"Is this...?" Freddy asked as he paced the dirt ring, his eyes flickering all around the large room. 

"Yes," Jacob replied, shedding his coat and hanging it on the barrier blocking off the ring, "but you're not allowed to use this information once you're on the clock, I've already promised Topping."

"That he did!" the bookie crowed from the seats above the ring. Jacob rolled his eyes; the man was like a peacock, always preening and crooning and vying for attention. It was a miracle he hadn't be caught yet, especially with his outfits that screamed 'yes, hello, I'm a bookie, please arrest me'. 

"I know that," Freddy glared, following Jacob's lead and beginning to shed his outer layers. "I just didn't think it'd be this big."

"Hear that Robert? Freddy here didn't think it'd be this big," Jacob called up teasingly. Robert flipped him the v, causing Jacob to cackle in delight before he smiled at Freddy. He wasn't used to seeing Freddy in anything other than full dress outside of their flats or the train; the man wasn't willing to shed his jacket on hot days, or loosen his tie after work, or even take his hat off to save it from the rain, so seeing him standing in the middle of one of Topping's many dusty fight rings with his jacket, waistcoat, and tie all hanging from a fencepost was and oddly delightful treat. Especially with his shirtsleeves rolled up. 

"That was fast," Jacob commented, glancing down at himself. "But the casual look looks good on you Freddy," he added as he began unbuttoning his cardigan. He took care that his pocket watch didn't hit the ground as he took it off...again. Evie would kill him. 

"Maybe if you spent less time teasing people and more time doing what you needed to, it wouldn't be," Freddy retorted, stepping into Jacob's space. He took Jacob's left arm in his hands and slowly began to unbuckle the man's hidden blade. Jacob's breath hitched and he looked up at Topping in an almost panic. Topping grinned down at him and wagged his eyebrows. 

"Freddy," Jacob muttered, "he's still here you know." 

"And? I'm a police officer standing in a fight club with a known murderer and a bookie we can't catch. Nobody here is going to turn anyone in for indecency," Freddy answered calmly, his thumbs smoothing over the gap between the buckles as they came undone to soothe Jacob's temporarily frayed nerves. Jacob had never been comfortable with public displays of romantic affection with women  _or_ men, something that both men knew stemmed from Jacob's borderline paralysing fear that someone would find out about the relationship and use it against him. Which, well, had actually happened with Freddy, but Jacob only sighed and nodded, slightly amazed that Freddy had gone from bristling with rage to affectionate and confident in just a few short days. Their conversation/makeup sex had apparently done the trick, stitching the ragged edges of their relationship back together, and the subsequent conversations following had been the balm that took the sting out from the tender area around the stitches. 

The blade slipped into Freddy's hand and he put it aside as gently as he always did, treating it like an extension of Jacob rather than as a tool, before brushing a brief, barely there kiss across Jacob's knuckles. This drew a small smile from Jacob and he had to force himself to step away in order to roll up his own shirt sleeves. Freddy had always been willing to provide Jacob with the physical reassurances that he needed, just as Jacob was willing to provide Freddy with the verbal reaffirmations that he secretly yet desperately craved. 

 

 

"Alright, so, we're not actually going to fight today, but, uh, I want to see how you do in that sort of situation," Jacob rambled. Frederick arched a brow at him. Jacob seemed nervous, almost bumbling now, and Frederick was barely able to suppress a small smile. It was obvious that Jacob had never actually trained someone the way he was about to train Frederick. Frederick knew that Jacob had taught the Rooks more effective ways of fighting, but they weren't his partner, weren't dangerously close to starting on a path that would change their lives forever...it was just different. 

"You want to see how I do in a fight without actually fighting me?" Frederick asked, keeping any sort of bite out of his voice. Jacob cringed and his face flushed darkly. 

"No, no, you're right," Jacob said, turning away as he began to unbutton his shirt. 

"Hey, none of that," Frederick murmured, stepping up so that his chest was almost brushing Jacob's back. The Assassin stilled, but the tension between his shoulders was as clear as day. "I'm not making fun." 

"I know," Jacob breathed, slipping his braces over his shoulders. Frederick brushed a kiss across the back of Jacob's neck, smirking inwardly at the dark splotches still marring the pale skin beneath his shirt collar, and rested his forehead against Jacob's spine for a brief instant. He could hear Jacob swallow thickly and took a small step back. "Just get your shirt off Freddy," the Assassin added teasingly, his voice carrying a bit further. Frederick's eyes flicked up to Topping, who was pointedly looking away to allow Jacob this short moment of vulnerability. 

"Yes sir," Frederick shot back, reeling around on one heel to go drop his shirt with the rest of his things. He saw Topping move out of the corner of his eye as he removed his braces and slipped his shirt off, but didn't know where the man was going until he reappeared by the barrier holding a fist full of scrap cloth. Jacob took some from the bookie and immediately began wrapping his knuckles with it, and so Frederick took some from the man as well and followed suit. 

"So you're Abberline then?" Topping asked, leaning against the fence casually. His eyes flickered over Frederick, glinting mischievously, but Frederick stood unflinching in the face of scrutiny. He knew it was because Topping regarded Jacob as a friend, not because he regarded Frederick as a threat. 

"That I am," Frederick replied, tucking the end of the fabric on his left hand into the folds so it wouldn't come undone easily. 

"I have heard quite a bit about you, and not just from Frye here. My informants tell me that you're one of the good ones on the force," Topping said. Frederick paused at that, his cheeks flushing, and he shrugged despite Jacob's huge grin. 

"I just do my job." 

"A rozzer that isn't stupid with power. I like it," Topping grinned. The grin had something almost lecherous in it and the blush on Frederick's face deepened. 

"He's already spoken for Topping," Jacob nearly growled, crowding up behind Frederick. Frederick huffed a weak laugh at that; Jacob was terrified of being affectionate in public, but was more than willing to stake a claim whenever someone so much as looked at Frederick the wrong way. He'd always been that way though. 

"I know, I know. I'm just saying," the bookie said, backing away with his hands held out in surrender. "You are both very lucky men though." 

"Don't let Ned hear you saying that," Jacob teased. Frederick looked at Topping curiously. 

"Ned? Wynert?" he asked. Robert's gaze suddenly hardened. 

"Yes." 

"Isn't he a criminal?" 

"A criminal?" Topping repeated. "That he is." The bookie and Jacob exchanged a look and then burst out into laughter. The tension in the room suddenly dissipated and Topping clapped Frederick on the shoulder. 

"You're a good man Abberline. If you need anything gents, I'll be in my office," he said, and with that he was strutting off to disappear behind the bar. Frederick shook his head in amazement and then turned to Jacob. 

"Well, let's get to it then," Frederick said. Jacob nodded, and then without hesitating swung at Frederick. Frederick ducked to avoid the blow and then stepped slightly outside of Jacob's reach. His arms came up into a loose fighting stance and he watched Jacob intently. Jacob circled him like a hawk, eyes flickering over Frederick's form, and Frederick had to draw a few slow breaths to keep from feeling like the rabbit Jacob was eyeing him up as. Then Jacob was darting forward again, fist flying towards Frederick's stomach, and Frederick barely had time to process the move before he was grabbing Jacob's arm and using his own momentum to propel him forward and into the barrier. Jacob let out a  _whoomp_ and then chuckled a bit breathlessly, popping right back up. 

"Good Freddy, good," he praised, and Frederick blushed a bit despite knowing that he was slightly more prepared for a brawl than the average man. 

 

 

Jacob quickly learned that Freddy relied primarily on using his opponent's movement against them, throwing Jacob headfirst into the fence, tripping him up, and on one occasion even rolling Jacob over his back to send him crashing to the floor. It was intriguing, watching Freddy fight, and Jacob felt a sudden burst of pride when he realised how hard the Templars that had managed to capture Freddy must have had to fight in order to do so. Part of him hissed that he  _should have done this sooner_ , the tone dark and mocking, but Jacob shoved that away in favor of adopting a less forceful method of attack. Evie had always been more suited towards this style, a style that relied more heavily on precision and speed than brutish strength, but both twins had been trained in many fighting styles. 

Freddy wasn't as well suited for this, the quick barrage of expertly placed jabs that stole his breath and made his whole body light up with pain, and he started to get visibly frustrated. His teeth were bared and his punches were becoming a bit wild, and so Jacob knew he had to put an end to it all before both of them ended up getting hurt. He waited until Freddy threw a poorly aimed punch towards his head and grabbed Freddy's arm, yanking him around and pressing his other hand right along the side of Freddy's now protruding shoulder blade. Freddy grunted and tried to pull away, but Jacob simply added a warning bit of pressure, nothing to hurt him, and Freddy stilled. 

"That...that was impressive," Jacob panted, taking note of just how hard his heart was pounding and how much sweat had pooled in the small of his back. Freddy's skin was hot to the touch, slick with sweat, and the other man was breathing harshly as well. 

"Told you I'm not helpless," Freddy retorted, trying once more to get out of Jacob's hold without having his shoulder dislocated. 

"Yes, yes you did. And you were right...up until this point," Jacob said, his voice dipping into a purr as he twisted Freddy's arm up so that his fist was lodged between his shoulder blades, a position Jacob often used to frog march Templars and Blighters into carriages to deliver to the Sergeant. Freddy shivered as Jacob's breath ghosted over his shoulders, and Jacob took the opportunity to press a few kisses along the curve of Freddy's neck, tongue flicking out on occasion to take in the salty tang of Freddy's sweat. 

"Jacob," Freddy said in warning. Jacob chuckled and placed a far more innocent kiss against Freddy's skin before releasing him and stepping back. 

"We need to get you used to speedy fighters," Jacob said, jumping right back into training mode. It was alright to have some fun, but he also knew that they were both here so that Freddy could learn. The Sergeant nodded and stretched out his arm, wincing as his muscles burned. Jacob was also feeling a bit sore, but he ignored the feeling. "When someone is coming at you with a lot of speed, especially if you can't match it, you need to defend target points," he explained, shifting Freddy's body this way and that until he was satisfied with his stance. "The stomach, the chest, your neck, kidneys, and face are all go to targets. Keeping your back angled away from them should help protect your kidneys, it's hard to kick someone in the kidney from in front of them, but they can also try and sweep your legs or hit you in the backs of the knees, so you're going to want to lower your centre of gravity a bit." 

Freddy did as was instructed and shifted a bit from side to side, getting used to the feeling of a different stance. 

"Alright, what next?"

 

 

They fought for hours, Freddy learning more with each round, until they were about to drop from exhaustion and the first of Topping's evening crowd were shuffling in. Freddy stiffened when they came in, worried that they'd immediately identify him, but Jacob clapped him on the back and jerked his head towards his clothes.  _Go get dressed_ was the silent request, and Freddy nodded. 

"Frye! Christ, don't tell me you're in the ring tonight," one of the men called out as Jacob wandered over to greet them. 

"Nah, I'm afraid not. I was just working on some pointers with a friend of mine," Jacob explained, slowly unraveling the material from around his knuckles. He swept his sweat slicked hair back and shrugged in silent apology. 

"Thank god, maybe I have a chance at earning some coin tonight," he chuckled. "Looks like your friend got a few nice hits in though, huh?" the man added, nodding to one of the many impressive love bites still staining his chest. Jacob shrugged, smirking at the man, and slipped his shirt on. 

"I'd say so," he agreed. He walked away then, buttoning his shirt and snagging his waistcoat off of the fencepost nearest Freddy. 

"You'd say what?" Freddy asked, frowning as he tried to get his tie to sit where he wanted it. 

"That you got some good hits in," Jacob replied, subtly gesturing at his chest and winking at Freddy. Freddy had the decency to blush, but he was smiling as he shook his head. 

"Only you Jacob, only you," he sighed, finally leaving his tie alone. Jacob smoothed out his sleeves and then grabbed his blade, pressing one side of the bracer to his abdomen so that he could begin buckling it. Freddy watched him work, a fond smile gracing his face, and reached out to help Jacob put the weapon back on. Jacob looked up in surprise. Freddy had never helped him put the blade back on. It was something Jacob could do in his sleep, just as easily as he could take it off, but a helping hand was never amiss when you had to attach a bladed weapon to your arm. 

"Thank you," he muttered once Freddy's hands fell away, and the Sergeant nodded at him before shrugging on his waistcoat. Jacob grabbed his cardigan and pulled it on over his head, ignoring the buttons in favor of doing things the easy way, and Freddy rolled his eyes. 

"It has buttons for a reason," Freddy commented. 

"Fashion," Jacob replied in a sing song voice, kneeling down to strap his kukri to his thigh. 

"Oh yes, fashion, not function. How could I be so remiss?" Freddy teased, jamming Jacob's cap onto his head and pulling it over his eyes so that Jacob couldn't see what he was doing. "Is this fashionable?" 

Jacob let out a laugh and swatted Freddy's hands away, fixing the cap before grabbing his coat. 

"C'mon Freddy, before anyone recognises you...or asks questions," Jacob said, nearly skipping away. Freddy followed after him, shaking his head fondly. 

 

 

 

"Good, good!" Jacob crowed once he caught his breath. Frederick had managed to land a furious round of hits on him despite Jacob having adopted a strange, hybridised fighting style that Frederick could only categorise as 'chaotic', and Jacob's raspy praise made him grin. He fell back to let Jacob catch his breath and stretched his arms above his head. It had been almost a month since their first session and Frederick found himself tiring less quickly, moving faster, thinking more on his feet, and even building more muscle. He was honestly rather proud of himself, and Jacob apparently was as well. He had started hovering like an overbearing mother hen a little less each lesson, and now Frederick could walk back to his flat after work without spotting Jacob creeping along the rooftops most nights. 

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Frederick beamed, slicking his hair back. Jacob nodded, but his smile was a bit more mischievous than usual. 

"Which is why you need a bit more of a challenge Sergeant Abberline."

Frederick paused and then reluctantly turned around. Evie was standing there, leaning against the barrier in a short sleeved blouse and trousers, her knuckles wrapped much like his and Jacob's. 

"You can't be serious," Frederick said, shooting Jacob an almost pathetic look. Jacob held up his hands in an  _oops_ gesture and leisurely hopped out of the ring. 

"There's only one way to test your progress Freddy, and that's by putting you up against other opponents. In this case, Evie. She's fast, faster than me, and she fights a bit differently. We need to know if you're just progressing against me, or if you're progressing in general," Jacob explained as Evie almost sauntered over and cracked her knuckles at Frederick with a smirk. Frederick sighed. They were right, but that didn't mean that he had to like the prospect of taking on Evie Frye. She was as fast as Jacob was strong, which was saying something, and her style was viper-like in its efficiency. Frederick settled down into a more defensive stance and nodded at Evie once. 

"Have at em," Jacob said, flopping down into a chair beside the ring to watch the show. 

Evie, unsurprisingly, struck first, her smaller fist catching Frederick right in the hinge of the jaw and sending him reeling backward. He moved it a bit to make sure it was still in place and then put his hands back up. Evie flew at him again, but this time he dipped down and caught her by the shoulders. She immediately grabbed his shoulders, trying to grapple with him, and he stepped in and backed himself up into her. Before Evie could process what was happening, Frederick hauled her up over his shoulder and slammed her into the ground, knocking the wind out of her. He gave her one quick jab to the face and then scurried backward, assuming a defensive position once again. Evie groaned and heaved herself up, eyes dancing as she circled Frederick. The look of glee on her face was the last thing Frederick could really process before things just became a fight to get out of the ring in one piece.

 

 

Jacob had to sit forward in his chair to really understand what was happening. Freddy was holding his own against  _Evie,_ who was arguably the fastest fighter he had ever seen. Wherever he was power, she was speed, and Freddy's reluctance to fight her had been understandable. When Evie hit the ground the first time, Jacob winced, having been the victim of that particular move a few times now. Then Freddy was sent careening into the fence, wood cracking with the force he hit it with. Jacob almost spoke up to remind them that they weren't actively trying to kill each other, but both of them had a controlled look on their faces. This was ferocity, yes, but it was well thought ferocity. Jacob hadn't ever been as good of a controlled brawler as Evie or Freddy, and if he were being honest with himself the only reason he probably hadn't accidentally injured Freddy yet was because he was terrified of hurting him to the point where he wasn't fighting to the best of his abilities. Evie had no such qualms. Their training as children often ended in sprains, bruises, and the occasional broken bone. Most of Freddy's injuries he was able to cover up once he got dressed for the day, but on one occasion he had taken an elbow to the eye and had been forced to pass it off as a failed mugging at work. 

A sharp crack got Jacob's attention and he looked back up to see blood dripping down Freddy's face and the man clutching his nose. His chair screeched as he stood up quickly, but Freddy waved him off and got back into position. Evie looked pleasantly surprised and nodded her approval. They fought for a while longer before Freddy managed to somehow get behind Evie and wrap his arm around her neck. He held it there until she tapped his thigh two times in quick succession, and when Freddy released her she had blood spatters all down the back of her shirt. 

"Well done Freddy," Evie panted, limping over to the fence. Jacob tossed her a towel and then leapt over the barrier to tend to Freddy. 

"I'm alright," Freddy said, flinching as Jacob began to gently towel the blood off of his face and chest. 

"She broke your nose," Jacob replied, tipping Freddy's head side to side. "It's going to need to be reset, it's crooked." 

"What, am I not handsome with a crooked nose?" Freddy teased, blinking through the pain as Jacob's fingers settled gently on the sides of Freddy's nose. 

"You're always handsome Freddy, but you can't leave it like this. It'll mess up your breathing when it heals," Jacob murmured. Freddy's eyes fell shut and he nodded faintly. Jacob grasped Freddy's nose and snapped it back into place without hesitation, although he did frown when Freddy let out a small, agonised sound. "Sorry." 

"'S alright," Freddy wheezed, taking the towel from Jacob to dab at his eyes and then swipe some of the additional blood from his face. "This'll be fun to explain though." 

"I'm sorry for your nose Abberline," Evie said, finally walking over. Jacob shrugged at her and Freddy gave her a weary, blood stained grin. 

"Honestly, I'm surprised it was you and not Jacob that broke something first," he laughed. Jacob placed a hand to his chest and gasped playfully. 

"Me? Frederick Abberline I am nothing but gentle with you." 

"That's the problem," both Evie and Freddy said in unison. They exchanged a look and then chuckled, Evie shaking her head as she clapped Freddy on the back. 

"How about you two go and get cleaned up and then meet me for drinks in a few hours? I owe you a drink for breaking your nose. Consider it a pain killer," she suggested. 

"Sounds fair to me," Freddy said. Jacob eyed Evie skeptically. Since when was she so friendly with Freddy? 

"The usual place?" she suggested, looking pointedly at Jacob. 

"Sure," he agreed, absently passing Freddy his shirt. She nodded, grabbed her jacket, and took her leave. 

"What was that about?" Freddy asked once the door swung shut behind her, apparently having picked up on the looks they had exchanged. 

"I have no idea," Jacob admitted, scratching the back of his neck. 

 

 

Freshly washed, dressed, and sporting two black eyes and a bit more pain than he was wont to admit, Frederick buried his hands in his pockets and hurried down the street towards the pub Jacob had given him the address to. It was a little too close to the Devil's Acre for Frederick's comfort, but he knew that if he didn't show up then Jacob and Evie would come looking for him. He ducked down an alleyway to take a shortcut, eyes flickering every which way, and didn't let out the breath he was holding until he made it to the other side. The pub was in view now, but just as he began to relax he heard footsteps behind him. 

"Oi!" 

Frederick turned around and saw a man storming towards him, his lips furled up in a snarl. 

"Yes?" Frederick asked, slowly letting his hands fall out from his pockets. 

"You're Abberline, yeah?" the man asked. Frederick swallowed at that and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. 

"That would be me, yes," Frederick said. The man spat at his feet. 

"You put me in jail you son of a bitch," he hissed, and then a fist was flying at Frederick. Without even thinking, Frederick grabbed the man's wrist, jerked his arm out, and slammed his elbow down on the man's shoulder blade. The man screamed in pain and jerked out of his grasp, trying to attack him again. Frederick side stepped the move, smelling booze on the man's breath, and tripped him easily. Without a second thought, Frederick had a knee pressed dangerously close to the man's groin and his pistol at the man's temple. The man's hand twitched and a knife was slipping out from his sleeve. He lashed out at Frederick's face and managed to knock his gun out of his hand as Frederick had to jerk back to avoid the blade. 

"Think about this, come on now," Frederick said, backing up with his hands out. "Do you really want to go back to jail?"

"Nobody's gonna send me to jail if I leave the only rozzer who's seen the crime layin' out 'ere with his guts in the street," the man hissed, grinning savagely. Frederick heard footsteps and looked up to see Jacob, Evie, and a few others a few metres away. He realised with a start that this was a street that many Rooks prowled; he had no doubt that one of them had gone to get the Fryes when they saw Jacob's 'good friend' being attacked. 

"I'd love to see you try that," Frederick said, his courage bolstered by Jacob's appearance. The man lunged again, blade slicing through Frederick's jacket, but Frederick managed to grab his arm and crack the wrist holding the knife over his knee. The knife clattered to the ground and Frederick threw the man off of him, taking a moment to grab the blade. He dove down to stop the man from going for his gun and pinned him with a knee on his groin and the knife at his throat. 

"Now you're going to run off to whatever shit hole you crawled out of, and if you ever threaten me again, you won't be going to jail, you'll be going straight to hell," Frederick snarled, pressing down on the knife just enough to draw a thin line of blood from the man's skin. He then let the man up and he ran away without another word. 

"Well now Freddy, that was new," Jacob drawled, apparently having gotten close enough to hear the exchange. Frederick shrugged and held the knife up to examine it in the lamp light. It was well made, wickedly sharp with a surprisingly nice handle. He ripped a dangling strip of material from his jacket and wrapped the blade in it before pocketing it. 

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Jacob's gaping jaw. "It's a nice knife." 

"I think we'll make you one of us yet," Jacob grinned, slinging an arm around Frederick's shoulder. The others filtered back into the pub, but as they approached the door, Jacob pulled Frederick over to the side of the building and gently pressed him up against the wall. 

"I'm alright Jacob," Frederick murmured, placing a hand on the Assassin's hip. 

"I know. When Carter told me someone was attacking you I was worried, but...you can take care of yourself," Jacob murmured, tracing his fingertips over Frederick's jaw. "Why did he attack you?" 

"He recognised me...apparently I was responsible for putting him in jail," Frederick replied, leaning into the gentle touch. 

"Hm. Maybe it's the facial hair, it's very distinct," Jacob suggested. Frederick rolled his eyes. 

"You just want me to shave it, don't you?" he asked. Jacob chuckled and shrugged. 

"I won't say that I wouldn't be interested to see a more cleanly shaven Freddy, but honestly, nobody else has a beard quite like yours. It's no surprise he recognised you," Jacob explained, standing up just enough that Frederick wasn't towering over him. 

"I'll consider it," Frederick said, smiling down at Jacob. Jacob's hand closed around the back of his neck and he pulled Frederick down to close the few inches that differentiated their heights. Frederick hummed happily into the brief kiss and continued to smile when Jacob pulled away. 

"Let's go get outrageously drunk to celebrate your first intimidation victory," Jacob suggested. Frederick laughed at that, but the idea wasn't necessarily one he was opposed to. His face  _hurt_ and his heart was still racing from the near stabbing. 

"Let's," he said, and they ducked into the pub after Evie to the sound of cheers and pints being pressed into their hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Jacob and I have a "ridiculously badass Freddy covered in blood and anger" fetish. Sorry not sorry. But yes, Freddy is becoming quite the little badass. :D


	8. Brewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jacob? Jacob! Don't you dare! Don't you dare do this to me again!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will warn that Freddy has a homophobic slur thrown at him in this chapter. There's not a drastic amount of homophobia, but I thought I should warn y'all. This chapter also earns the Graphic Depictions of Violence warning. Proceed with caution, although it's nothing you wouldn't see in the games.

The world was tipping from side to side as Frederick stumbled down the street with one arm slung around Jacob's shoulders. The Assassin had his arm around Frederick's waist, but nobody paid them any mind thanks to the inebriated state they were in. A giggle blossomed in Frederick's throat of its own accord and he used his head to bump Jacob's top hat to the side. 

"Freddy!" Jacob cried, tripping a bit as he fixed his hat. Frederick laughed again and tugged on Jacob's earlobe with his fingers before hugging Jacob a bit more tightly to his side. Jacob's fingers tightened on his hip and they leaned into each other, relishing in the temporarily acceptable (in that they were drunk, they'd get arrested for drunkenness before indecency) closeness they could have in public. 

"Shh," Frederick hissed, although he wanted nothing of the sort. He wanted to hear Jacob's laughter ring out across the barren street they were wandering down, watch his face flush even more deeply in amusement, feel the shake of his ribs against his side...and he got it in a small dose as Jacob snickered. 

"D'you think,  _hic_ , that Evie an' Henry'll forgive me for the jokes?" Jacob slurred, looking up at Frederick with hazy yet searching eyes. Frederick smiled and squeezed Jacob's shoulder in lieu of the more physical comfort he wanted to give. 

"Certainly. They were funny, not mean," Frederick said, tugging Jacob to the side so that they wouldn't get hit by the carriage trundling up the road behind them. Jacob smiled at that, soft and easy, and it was one of the most beautiful things Frederick had seen that day. "You're beautiful y'know," he slurred before he could stop himself. Jacob's face flushed and he looked down at his shoes. 

"Nah. Not like you, but thank you Freddy," Jacob mumbled. Frederick made an aggravated sound and stopped them, jerking Jacob around so that he could look him in the eyes. His hands were firmly planted on Jacob's shoulders as he spoke again. 

"You  _are_ beautiful Jacob. Your heart, your humour, all those little scars that tell so many stories," Frederick's hand came up to brush over the scar on Jacob's cheek. "I could look at you for the rest of my life and still find something new to appreciate each time." 

Both men stared at each other, the lamp light flickering in Frederick's dark, serious eyes, and while they both knew Frederick would never say something like that sober, they both knew he was telling the truth as well. 

"Almost sounds like yer in love with me," Jacob said, hands twitching as his face turned hopeful. Frederick opened his mouth to reply, to say anything, when the carriage stopped in the street a few paces in front of them. He dropped his hands to his sides and cleared his throat, knowing that the touch he had placed on Jacob's face was far too intimate for public. He idly cursed the effects of alcohol on his judgement, but remained as calm as one could as two men slipped out of the carriage. 

"Let's go," Frederick murmured, pushing Jacob towards the nearby alleyway so that they could avoid the men that were walking towards them. They were broad and their faces screamed of trouble, something that nobody, no matter how well trained they were, could deal with in this state of inebriation. Jacob nodded in agreement and turned down the alleyway, picking up the pace as he went. Frederick followed quickly, casting a glance over his shoulder as he and Jacob slipped into the shadows. The men broke out into a run then, drawing knives as they did so, and Frederick did the only thing he could do. 

"Jacob, run!" he hissed, adrenaline spiking and trying to fight the effects of the alcohol. Jacob opened his mouth to argue, but by then the men were on Frederick, one grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back while the other caught him around the neck and pressed the blade of his knife to his throat. 

"Don't follow us," the man with the knife ordered. "Unless you want him dead. Understand?" 

Jacob stared in horror as Frederick was dragged backward. Frederick knew better than to fight. To fight would drive the knife into his neck, killing him. He did, however, notice the arm band the man was wearing. He reached up and grabbed at the man's arms as if he were trying to free his neck, but used his nails to tear at the shoddy stitching holding the patch onto the band. It began to fray, and just as his feet hit the cobblestone street, the patch fluttered off, unnoticed by either of the two men. Jacob's eyes flicked down to it. 

"Jacob, it's going to be alright," Frederick called out, still clinging to his attacker's arm. 

"Knock it off," the man hissed, digging the knife in just enough to be a threat. Jacob looked paralysed by fear, his chest heaving as he watched Frederick get manhandled into the carriage. 

"Freddy, I love you!" Jacob yelled, stumbling to pick up the patch. He took a few clumsy steps towards the carriage, obviously too drunk to do much else. Frederick fought with the man trying to close the door. "I  _will_ find you." 

"I know you will Jacob," Frederick yelled, and then the door was being slammed shut as something hard came down on the back of his head. The world faded to black and he slumped against the window, deaf to Jacob's yell of anger. 

 

 

 

"Again?" Evie asked, rubbing tiredly at her face as she examined the patch Jacob had thrown down on the desk. Jacob was pacing back and forth, tottering slightly, his eyes red rimmed and his hands flexing uselessly. 

"I don't know what to do Evie," Jacob groaned, grabbing at his hair. "I never should've drank this much." 

"Jacob, it's going to be okay," Evie said, detecting her brother's despair. She walked out from behind the desk and carefully pulled Jacob's hands out of his hair. "Just because we're Assassins doesn't mean that we aren't allowed to have some fun every now and then. None of us knew that this was going to happen; it's not your fault."

"You're always telling me not to drink so much," Jacob countered, reeling a bit as the train hit a curve in the track. Evie steadied him with a hand on his elbow and steered him towards the chaise. 

"Jacob, I was  _there_. In all honesty, I just wanted to see you and Freddy both loosen up a bit. I know things have been getting between between you, but...seeing you both laugh and smile and joke like you used to was nice. Henry and I should have waited and left with you, you've always taken care of me in situations like that but I wasn't thinking," Evie explained, pain and a bit of remorse surfacing on her face. While it was neither of their faults that Freddy was taken, Evie knew better than to leave her inebriated brother and his partner, friend, whatever Freddy was at the moment, alone when they were both drunk off their arses. There was a level that both twins hit where they could no longer fight, and Evie had watched as Jacob passed it and she still left. She bit down on her bottom lip. 

"I'm going to go find Freddy, okay?" she said, pushing Jacob back down when he tried to stand. "You can't go out looking for him like this, not until you sober up."

"I won't just stay here and sit around while he's out there having god knows what done to him!" Jacob roared, although his words still slurred together here and there. 

"Jacob, if you go out in this state, you will  _actually_ die. You'll fall or get shot or get into a fight you can't win. Freddy wouldn't want you out there looking for him like this and I won't let you." 

"Try and stop me." 

Evie barely winced as she brought her elbow down on the back of Jacob's skull, sending him slumping back into the chaise, unconscious. She carefully arranged him on the lounge so that if he got sick he wouldn't choke, left a pitcher of water on the desk, and darted off into the night to find her brother's lover. 

 

 

 

Frederick's head was pounding when his eyes finally flickered open, dragging him reluctantly into consciousness after several brief bouts of intense nausea and confusion. Daylight was trickling in through a small window above him, but his arms were bound to a post and his whole body ached from the combination of alcohol, dehydration, and the rough blow he had been dealt to the back of his head. 

"Finally awake then, eh?" someone drawled. Frederick's head snapped to the right, sending the world spinning, and he clenched his jaw to fight off the nausea that the movement caused. A man was sitting in a chair there, leaning forward and watching Frederick with a morbid sort of grin on his face. 

"Who are you?" Frederick managed to grit out once the nausea passed. The man chuckled and scooted the chair closer, the legs screeching painfully against the wooden floor of whatever room they were in. 

"Does it matter?" he asked. 

"Perhaps." 

"Why?" 

"So that I know whose name to write on your grave," Frederick spat, anger rising. He was tired, he hurt all over, he wanted to go  _home_ , and Jacob...oh god, Jacob. Jacob hadn't been grabbed with Frederick, so chances were he was out looking for him, but Frederick wasn't about to sit idle and play damsel in distress. Again. The man in the chair let out a chuckle though and drummed his fingers along the back of it, which was actually facing Frederick. Idiot couldn't even sit in a chair properly, using it as a power display instead. 

"Big talk from the poof tied to a post," he sneered. Frederick sucked in a sharp breath and shuffled so he was sitting up on his knees. 

"Untie me then and we'll see if it's just big talk," Frederick challenged. The man laughed again. 

"I'm not stupid you know. Why would I untie you when I've got you right where I want you?" 

"Where is here?" Frederick asked. The man rolled his eyes. 

"Like I'd tell you that." 

"Who am I going to tell? The rats? As you've been so keen to remind me, I'm tied to a post and you're the only other person in here." 

The man sighed. "You're in a storage shed in Lambeth, near some of the factories." 

"What is it with you people and Lambeth?" Frederick groaned, letting his head fall back to rest against the post briefly. Last time he had been kidnapped, it had been over Lambeth as well. 

"It's not about  _Lambeth_ , it's about the city as a whole. Lambeth is just convenient," the man explained. He scratched at the back of his neck. 

"And what do I have to do with whatever nonsensical claim the Blighters have over London?" Frederick queried, hoping to get something of value out of the man. Play dumb, it was one of the best tactics for getting information out of witnesses. People were always so keen to correct you when you were wrong, but if they thought you knew something they'd clam up in the blink of an eye.

"This isn't about the Blighters," the man growled, eyes narrowing at Frederick. "It's about those goddamned Assassins constantly trying to destroy everything we've worked to build." 

"And what have you built?" 

"Order. Peace. This city was progressing towards a new era before those stupid Frye twins showed up." 

"Order? Peace?" Frederick let out a barking laugh. "I work for Scotland Yard, and trust me. There was very little order or peace before the Fryes showed up, and plenty of it after."

"Perhaps for the lower class, but sacrifices must be made if we are to create a better world," the man shrugged. Frederick stared at him in astonishment. 

"What does that even mean?" 

"It means, Sergeant Abberline, that there are some people in this world who simply won't ever conform to the rest of society. They are outcasts, thieves,  _criminals_ ," he looked pointedly at Frederick, "and they have no place in a world where order reigns supreme," the man explained, standing up and beginning to pace back and forth in front of Frederick. 

"How do you plan to go about creating this order then? Killing off everyone that doesn't comply?" Frederick spat. The man shook his head. 

"They will do that themselves without our guidance. We seek to prevent that. Your beloved Assassins stole something very precious to us, something that we could have used to mold the masses to our will, creating a peace in London that the world has never known. A peace that we could spread throughout the Empire and then the world." 

 _They think that they can end the world's problems by conquering it. Controlling everyone, crushing out individuality and enterprise,_ Jacob's voice rang through Frederick's head. So this man was a Templar. Frederick vaguely remembered scratching at an arm, trying to get something off of it. It must have been the arm band the Templars wore. They really were masters of subtlety, just like the Assassins. Frederick pressed his legs to either side of the post and almost grinned when he felt something hard dig into the side of his left ankle. 

"That...actually sounds rather reasonable," Frederick said slowly, twitching his face into some semblance of consideration. "Nobody can cause problems if they are all bound by the same ideals, the same morals, the same principals. Like a world where everyone is devout to the same Church." 

The man's face brightened considerably. "Exactly." 

"Perhaps I was wrong to help the Fryes." 

The man stared at Frederick for a long while. 

"I wasn't expecting a change of heart from a man like you, especially one that would come so easily." 

Frederick smirked. "I've often been told that I'm a surprising man. Perhaps I could be of more use to you than as bait." 

"I'll be right back," the man said, and with that he swept out of a door behind Frederick and to the left. Frederick's heart soared and he desperately shuffled his left leg up towards his hand. He was barely able to manage it, but he eventually shoved his trouser leg up and his fingertips found the handle of the knife he had taken just the night prior. Jacob had proudly bestowed upon him a simple sheath that he could wear around his ankle, concealing the weapon much more easily than a gun could be hidden, while they were at the pub. 

"Thank god for Jacob Frye," Frederick muttered as he struggled to grasp the knife. It slid from the sheath after a moment and teetered dangerously for a few seconds, almost falling to the floor before tumbling into Frederick's outstretched fingers. He fixed his trouser leg with a simple twitch of his foot and then angled the blade so it was pressed against the rope binding him. They had tied his wrists together, using his arms to hold him to the post, and so all he had to do to disguise the fact that he was free was grasp the rope in one hand when the man returned. He filed at the rope desperately, and just as he heard footsteps approaching the rope gave. He grasped it tightly in his right hand, slipping the knife up into his left sleeve, and forced his face to remain blank. 

The man walked back in with two others, a man so large he'd give Jacob a run for his money and a woman with all of Evie's poise and none of her roguish charm. 

"So I hear you want to be of use to us," the woman said, her voice smooth and dark, sinister in all the right ways. Frederick suppressed a shudder and nodded. 

"The Fryes never told me what they fought against, only that they wanted to help London. I'm starting to see that what they're doing is more destructive than anything," Frederick replied. "I mean, look where my association with them has gotten me," he added with a cold laugh. 

"You're close to Jacob, yes?" the woman asked. Frederick's face flushed despite his desire to remain unreadable, drawing a disgusted sort of sound from the man who had been watching him originally. 

"You could say that." 

"If we let you leave, it will be under one condition."

"What's that?" Frederick asked, leaning forward as much as he could without giving away the fact that he had cut the rope. 

"Kill Jacob Frye. It should be far easier for you to get him in a...vulnerable position than it ever has for us," the woman said. Frederick's blood ran cold but he managed a devilish smirk. 

"You've got yourself a deal. The man ruined me anyway," he said. "I'd shake hands on it, but, well," he laughed and jerked his shoulders a bit. 

"Untie him," she ordered. The man who had been in the chair walked around and grasped Frederick's hands roughly. 

"What the-" he began, but then Frederick was twisting around the post and driving his knife into the man's throat. He fell to the ground with a sickening gurgle as Frederick wrenched the knife free, blood washing over his hands. The woman let out a monstrous screech and dove for Frederick, unsheathing the dagger on her hip as she moved. Frederick intercepted the swing forearm to forearm, bringing his arm around and down so that he could press the blade and her hand beneath his armpit. He twisted slightly and there was a snap before the dagger fell to the ground and he brought up his own knife, stabbing her in the neck without a thought. The third man had drawn a gun and leveled it at Frederick's head. Frederick dove to the side just as the man pulled the trigger and then sprinted forward, tackling him to the ground. Frederick managed to pin his arms beneath his knees and took his knife in his right hand. With a single, swift motion he drug the blade across the man's throat, barely wincing when blood spurted up at him, sprinkling his face. It took a second for the adrenaline to wear off for Frederick to realise what he had done, and he stumbled backward and off of the man with a choked gasp. 

He had killed them, three people, almost mechanically. Yes, Jacob had been teaching him both hand to hand and armed combat, and he had been taught how to survive various situations while training with the Yard, but this...this was different. Frederick was soaked in the blood of his enemies, of Jacob's enemies, and he hadn't even thought twice about killing them. His stomach churned and he reeled around just in time to avoid vomiting on one of the corpses he had put there. The door slammed open as he continued to empty his stomach, and he didn't even move to defend himself as someone came running over and then stopped a few feet shy. 

"Abberline?" 

Frederick's head snapped up and he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. Evie was standing there looking disheveled and slightly stunned. Frederick managed not to heave again when he realised that wiping his mouth had smeared blood across his face. 

"Miss Frye," Frederick rasped, finally dropping the knife. He sank to his knees then and stared at the corpses in horror. 

"Are you alright?" Evie asked, spurring back into motion. She came up behind him and pressed a hand to his shoulder. 

"I don't know," Frederick answered honestly. He was horrified by what he had just done, the cold efficiency of it, but he also knew that there was no other form of justice to be taken when it came to the Templars. Arrest would only see them freed and more powerful than before. "I...I've never killed anyone before, not like this."

"They would have killed you, you know that don't you?" 

Frederick sighed and hung his head. 

"I know, but...I didn't even think twice. I just slit their throats Evie. I mean, l-look at them. L-look a-a-at me," Frederick's voice rose and he let out an almost manic laugh. "I look like I work in a butcher's shop!" 

Evie walked in front of him and crouched down, blocking his view of the people he had killed. 

"Frederick, just breathe. I know that it is hard to come to grips with this, but you did this in order to survive. It was kill or be killed. Most likely kill or be tortured, used as bait, and then killed. You did the right thing," Evie murmured, rubbing her gloved thumbs across the insides of Frederick's wrists as his hands began to tremble. 

"They deserved to die," he said coldly. 

"Then why are you so upset that you killed them?" Evie asked. 

"Because it came so easily." 

Evie let her eyes fall shut for a moment. It was time to talk to Jacob about Frederick's continued training. 

 

 

 

"Freddy, oh thank god you're...oh shit, what happened? Are you hurt?" Jacob's voice was a soothing balm to Freddy's frayed nerves as he was manhandled onto the train by Evie. Jacob was staring at Freddy in an absent sort of shock, eyes flickering all over the man's body to see where he had been injured, where the blood had come from. 

"No, I'm not hurt Jacob," Freddy answered, his voice softer than usual. Jacob shot Evie a questioning look. 

"Henry's in the next car, why don't we see if he can't get Frederick some clean clothes and something to wash up with and then we can talk, yeah?" she asked. Jacob hesitated, but ultimately nodded, letting her steer Freddy into the next car. The man was obviously shaken, covered in blood, pale beneath his bruises and the blood smeared across his face, but to hear that he was uninjured lifted a weight off of Jacob's shoulders. Jacob had been terrified when he had woken up, head pounding and a note pinned just above the door that read LOOKING FOR ABBERLINE, PLEASE STAY HERE, but Evie had delivered on her promise and had brought Freddy back safe and...well, safe. Whether or not he was sound was yet to be determined. 

When Evie returned, it was with Henry on her heels, and both of them looked worried. 

"What happened?" Jacob asked immediately. 

"We were able to track the carriage you described to a livery in the City. One of Henry's informants gave him the information on the last person who had rented it, and from there we were able to track Abberline to a small storage facility in Lambeth," Evie explained, walking over to the desk chair and sinking down into it wearily. "When I got there, Frederick had already freed himself and had killed his captors." 

Jacob stared. "Freddy? Killed his captors?" 

"Efficiently too. Turns out the knife he took last night came into handy after all," Evie sighed, rubbing at her face tiredly. "He's taking to the training well Jacob." 

"I'm glad to know that at least something I've done is keeping him safe," Jacob said. He turned away from his sister, avoiding Henry's eyes, and stared out the window. 

"We think it's time to discuss whether or not we want to take him on as a recruit Jacob," Henry said. Jacob stiffened. 

"No," he hissed, reeling around to face them. "He...he's not...he's a  _civilian_." 

"So were many of the Assassins that came before us, who fight alongside us now, and I have no doubt there will be more civilians-turned-Assassin in the future Jacob," Evie said calmly. Jacob groaned and flopped down onto the chaise, putting his head in his hands. 

"I want him to be safe, not put him in more danger," Jacob muttered. He felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. Freddy wasn't supposed to become an Assassin, Jacob hadn't really wanted that, he had just wanted to teach him how to survive in a world where Jacob's enemies were quickly becoming Freddy's as well. 

"He killed three Templars today Jacob, and nobody saw me enter or leave the building. They will know it was him. They already know he has ties to the Brotherhood." 

"I don't...I can't ask him to do that Evie. He has a life, he wasn't born into this like us," Jacob argued. 

"And he might not make it much longer if we don't take him in properly," Evie snapped back. Jacob paled and slowly sank back into his seat, staring blankly at the bookshelf across from him. 

"I've ruined his life," Jacob whispered after a moment. Evie and Henry exchanged a look unseen by Jacob, who was too caught up in his inner turmoil to notice much of anything. "So that's it? I fall in love with someone so they either have to become an Assassin or they're going to end up getting murdered by the Templars in some ridiculous plot to force us out of London?" 

"I wasn't...that's not what I meant Jacob," Evie tried, but Jacob just let out a broken laugh and covered his face again. 

"God, this is  _so_ _like me_. You always warned me Evie, always, not to fall in love. That emotions were dangerous and distracted us from the mission and you...you were right. And now Freddy's life is going to be turned upside down and turn into something he never wanted and it's all because of me," Jacob rambled. 

"You can't know what he wants unless you ask him," Henry offered, looking a bit torn. Jacob knew that Henry was not suited for the same sort of Assassin work as he and Evie were, he knew that Henry could see the darkness in the Brotherhood that Evie was blind to and Jacob simply accepted it for what it was now. He had resented the Brotherhood for a long time before that though. He didn't want to drag Freddy down the same path. 

"He won't become an Assassin!" Jacob snapped, slamming a fist down on the arm of the chaise. The door behind him slid open with a click then and Freddy stepped out, looking a bit weary and worse for wear, but alive and wearing some borrowed clothes. 

"Isn't that my decision to make Jacob?" Freddy asked softly. It was obvious that he had heard a significant portion of the conversation. 

 

 

Jacob's expression was almost heartbreaking when he looked up at Frederick, who was feeling far more human and a lot less confused now that he wasn't covered in blood and had gotten to scrub the hangover and shock away. Frederick wanted to reach out and kiss the pain off of Jacob's face, but part of him was annoyed that Jacob was trying to make decisions that would effect both of them without Frederick's input...again. 

"Freddy you have no idea what you would be getting into," Jacob murmured. Evie muttered something to Henry and both of them slipped out of the car. 

"I think I do actually," Frederick countered. 

"No, you really don't." 

"I've been kidnapped  _twice_ by the Templars," Frederick snapped, shocking Jacob. "I have heard their ideologies from both you and them. I've seen what you do, I've  _helped_ you do it, and now I've killed three people for a cause that you won't even let me fully understand." 

"This isn't something you start, understand, and then decide to back out of Freddy," Jacob argued, standing up so that he was eye to eye with Frederick. "If you were to start training as an Assassin, it's not a trial period. It's until  _death_ Freddy. I don't know if you understand what that means."

"And how am I supposed to understand anything that's going on if you won't tell me, keep trying to tell me what I am and am not allowed to do, and then act like you're doing me some sort of favour?!" Frederick roared, his temper finally frothing into a boil. Jacob flinched at that and then got right up in Frederick's face. 

"Because I'm doing it to  _protect_ you Freddy," he hissed. 

"Well you've done a great job of that so far!" Frederick retorted, and he knew that it was the wrong thing to say the second it came out of his mouth. Jacob reeled away from him and lurched towards the door. 

"You're right. I'm sorry. I should have never come back," Jacob said, voice cold and almost dead. Frederick's blood turned to ice. 

"Jacob?"

The man kept moving towards the door. 

"Jacob!"

He didn't stop. Frederick's heart began to race and, much to his embarrassment, tears welled up in his eyes. He was tired, in pain, but nothing overcame the feeling of watching Jacob try to walk out again. 

"Don't you dare!" he nearly yelled, voice going shrill. "Don't you dare do this to me again!" 

"I'm sure you'll move on Freddy." The remark was loaded with resentment and it stung. Frederick immediately reached up and grabbed at the necklace he still wore. 

"I can't lose someone that I love again Jacob," Frederick replied, his voice breaking over 'again'. It was that statement that froze Jacob in his tracks, and the Assassin turned to look at him over his shoulder. The tears finally spilled down Frederick's cheeks but he kept his head held high. "I know you want to protect me, but you have to let me protect you too, alright?" 

Jacob took a few slow steps back towards Frederick, and Frederick licked his lips nervously. 

"This will go against everything you do at Scotland Yard. You'll be breaking pretty much every law that exists," Jacob murmured, voice hoarse. 

"Don't we already do that on a regular basis anyway?" Frederick asked, voice wavering as more tears rolled down his cheeks. "I snuck weapons into bloody Buckingham Palace for you. I deliberately mislead investigations that might set the police on your path. Hell Jacob, I've made love to you and we both know that's a crime. Do you really think that I see the world in black and white anymore?" 

Jacob looked momentarily floored, but he couldn't completely bite back the smile that was starting to surface. 

"What are you trying to say Freddy?" he asked. Frederick finally closed most of the distance between them and cupped Jacob's face in his hands. 

"I'm saying that I don't care about the laws, I don't care about Scotland Yard, I care about making this city, this  _world_ , a better place. And, if I'm being honest, I'd do anything to have you by my side while I do that," Frederick said, his heart lodged firmly in his throat. Jacob swallowed heavily and placed his hands on Frederick's hips. 

"Almost sounds like you're in love with me," he whispered. Frederick huffed out a quiet laugh and pressed their foreheads together. 

"Jacob, you dolt, you know I am," he murmured, and then he ducked his head down and caught Jacob's lips in his own. He could feel his tears drip onto Jacob's face, felt the way Jacob's hands convulsed around his hips, and then Jacob was surging back up into the kiss, whining happily and tilting his head to deepen it. His nose brushed Frederick's and Frederick jerked away in pain. 

"Ow," he hissed, touching his broken nose gingerly. Jacob looked properly sheepish and bit his lower lip. 

"Sorry," Jacob mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"It's alright," Frederick chuckled, shaking off the pain to cup Jacob's neck with one hand. "How about we try that again, but this time you don't smack me in the nose?" 

"I'd like that very much Frederick Abberline," Jacob purred, sliding his hand almost possessively around to the small of Frederick's back. Frederick allowed this moment of possessiveness and dusted his lips over Jacob's. 

"I love you Jake," Frederick breathed, shaking slightly. It had taken him far too long to admit that to himself, let alone to Jacob. There was no guilt attached to the feeling, no shame. He knew Martha was screaming with joy wherever she was, glad that Frederick was allowing himself to love again. 

"I love you too Freddy," Jacob choked out, and then Frederick found himself being kissed so thoroughly he forgot how to breathe. 

 

 

Later, when the two of them were tangled up in each other and hidden away in Freddy's flat, warm, safe, and very much alive, Jacob would realise with a start what Freddy had said earlier. 

"Freddy?" 

"Hmm?" Freddy replied, eyes cracking open just a bit so that he could look at Jacob. 

"You called me Jake earlier."

"I did? I...sorry."

"No, no, don't be...I just...nobody's ever called me that before, not even Evie." 

"Nobody ever calls me Freddy but you." 

They both chuckled fondly and Jacob snuggled closer to Freddy, tracing the man's spine with his fingertips. 

"I like it," Jacob finally decided, pressing a careful kiss to Freddy's forehead. 

"I'm glad." 

 

 

"Jacob?"

The Assassin grunted into wakefulness and looked at Freddy with bleary eyes. 

"Yeah?"

"I like Freddy too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> murder and fluff, what more could you need? But actually, idk why but it's become a Fryeddy headcanon of mine that nobody calls Jacob "Jake" but Freddy. I don't recall anyone calling him "Jake" in the game, I could be wrong, but I think it's sort of adorable because Jacob is the only one who calls Freddy "Freddy". 
> 
>  
> 
> also, I made up my mind. surprise surprise, Freddy's gon' be an Assassin.


	9. Gathering Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I did it,” he muttered to himself in disbelief, a grin splitting his face as he flopped down to give his shaking body a break. “I actually did it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long to update. I was gonna do it sooner and then writer's block reared its evil little head. Canon typical violence in this chapter, as well as Freddy feels and some other nonsense that my writer's blocked mind came up with. Hope you all enjoy as much as I enjoy you <3

Frederick groaned and stared up at Jacob, who was perched on the ledge above him grinning madly.

"What're you smiling at?" he asked, taking a second to catch his breath. His body ached in ways he didn't think possible thanks to the newest addition to his training regimen: free running. Chasing Jacob from rooftop to rooftop had been easy enough, but when Jacob decided to add a vertical element and some distance, Frederick found himself faltering. 

"You almost had it. You're getting better at identifying climbing routes," Jacob replied, hopping down with coiled grace and offering Frederick a hand. Frederick took it and let Jacob haul him to his feet, wincing as the fresh bruises lining his back screamed in protest. 

"Doesn't help if I don't have the arm strength to follow them," Frederick grumbled. It was frustrating; he had taken to the fighting more easily than he had expected, but this was making up for all of the ease of the combat training in creative and painful ways.

Jacob shook his head and lifted Frederick's hand by the wrist. 

"It's not just in the arms, it's in the fingers, the wrists, and unfortunately the only way to build those muscles is to keep doing this," he explained, brushing his lips across the backs of Frederick's knuckles before dropping his hand. Jacob had been surprisingly good about separating personal and professional, although affection still bled between them in almost every situation. 

"Is this how you learned?" Frederick asked, glaring up at the wall separating him from the ledge that he had been told to climb up to. 

"Yep," Jacob sighed, standing shoulder to shoulder with Frederick to look up at the ledge. "It hurts, but when you're finally able to do it...well, to me it always felt like flying." 

Frederick found himself captivated by the small, wistful grin that Jacob's face twisted up into and he cleared his throat. 

"Yes, well, I suppose birds tend to fall before they learn to fly," he said. Jacob chuckled and shoved Frederick gently towards the wall. 

"And they always do it because mum pushed them out of the nest, so get up there. I'll catch you this time if you fall." 

Frederick took a slow breath and then nodded, flexing his aching hands and arms before he took a few steps and then ran at the wall. He launched himself up with one foot at the base of the wall and managed to catch a loose brick with his left hand. His feet scrambled for purchase and he clung to the bricks desperately once they did. His heart was pounding and he forced himself not to look down, concentrating instead on moving up. Jacob’s voice, urging him forward, was little more than a dull buzz in the back of his mind, but the knowledge that Jacob was there to catch him if he fell was apparently working wonders on Frederick’s confidence. Before he knew it, Frederick had reached the ledge and hauled himself up onto the roof.

“I did it,” he muttered to himself in disbelief, a grin splitting his face as he flopped down to give his shaking body a break. “I actually did it.”

It was then that Jacob vaulted over the wall and promptly tackled Frederick so that he was sprawled out on his back. Frederick yelped in both surprise and pain, but allowed Jacob to pin him gently to the roof. Wind chapped lips pressed against his own and Frederick hummed happily into the kiss, knowing that they were safe here far above London. Up on the rooftops, it felt like nothing could ever get to him.

Down on the ground, however, was a different story.

 

 

 

 

 

Rain poured down as Frederick gripped his pistol more tightly and nodded to the constables in front of him.

“Kick it in,” he ordered, breath billowing out in a cloud in front of him. Winter had finally given itself over to spring, but the last vestiges of cold were clutching onto the city with brittle fingers and Frederick had been standing out in the rain for hours. The Blighters were growing more desperate by the day, trying to reclaim territory they had lost to the Rooks while still hanging on to what little they had left. Frederick had been, ah, _reliably informed_ , that the Blighters were holding factory workers hostage in The Strand, and had led a full scale investigation before the situation escalated rather quickly.

The constable nodded shakily and then jerked his head towards the door. Several of Scotland Yard’s finest stormed the door, throwing their weight into it with well-placed kicks and shoves until the wood splintered and the hoard of police officers could storm the factory.

Gunfire popped all around and Frederick barely had time to duck behind a machine as the chaos erupted. All around people were screaming, no doubt hostages terrified out of their minds, but luckily for Frederick and the rest of the police the Blighters weren’t always the brightest and had abandoned their best bargaining chip by leaving the hostages to the side while they opened fire.

“Get the hostages to safely. Do it quickly, do it quietly,” Frederick hissed at a slightly shaking young man beside him. The boy couldn’t have been much older than eighteen, and that gave Frederick pause. He reached out and touched the boy on the arm. “Is this your first raid?”

“Yessir,” the boy gasped, blushing profusely. Frederick smiled at him warmly.

“What’s your name son?”

“Roberts, sir. Philip Roberts,” he replied.

“It’s going to be alright. Now go, get the hostages out of here. I trust you to be discrete about it,” Frederick murmured. The boy’s face grew a shade less terrified and he nodded once, twice, and then darted out from behind cover to get to the first group of hostages. Frederick saw them all slip out the door out of the corner of his eye as he jumped up and opened fire on the Blighters nearby.

Things got a lot bloodier once the Blighters and the police both ran out of bullets. Dead and wounded men (and, on the side of the Blighters, the occasional woman) lay on the ground, some screaming, most still, and Frederick squared his jaw as he unsheathed the knife he had taken to carrying and grasped his billy club with his off hand. Many of the other officers were doing the same, grasping their billy clubs in front of them like a knight with a sword. It was on days like this that Frederick was proud to serve on Scotland Yard’s force.

“You’ve got one last chance to surrender. Lower your weapons and put your hands on your heads and we won’t attack,” Frederick shouted, his voice ringing throughout the factory. A tense silence fell over the building, and then one of the Blighters, a tall, ugly, bald fellow with far too many muscles to touch his head scoffed.

“Like hell,” he growled. Frederick sighed and then lunged forward, taking the man down with one quick swipe of his knife.

 

 

“I heard that Scotland Yard put on quite the show today.”

Frederick stiffened momentarily and then let the tension bleed out of his body, tossing his hat towards the peg by the door and missing by a metre. He was aching, bruised and bloodied by the raid, disappointed by the number of Blighters that he and his men had been forced to kill because they refused to go peacefully, and, if he were being quite honest, he was in no mood for Jacob’s games.

“I’m sure,” he grunted, dropping his jacket onto the floor and kicking his shoes in the general direction of the door. Jacob slipped out from the shadows and the window shut with a gentle click. Jacob’s face was gentle, his eyes creased at the edges with worry, and all of the exhaustion that Frederick had been trying to hold off hit him like a freight train. He slumped into Jacob’s chest the moment the Assassin held out his arms and a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding rushed out of him.

“I’m glad you’re alright Freddy,” Jacob murmured, sliding Frederick’s braces from his shoulders and somehow managing to undo Frederick’s tie while still holding the exhausted officer to his chest with one arm. “I heard there had been casualties on both sides, but nobody had any names.”

“There were too many casualties Jacob,” Frederick whispered, burying his face in the crook of Jacob’s neck. His hands latched onto Jacob’s collar and he bit back a sob. “There was a boy, Jacob, he barely scraped eighteen…”

 

Jacob’s eyes widened and he held onto Freddy tighter as the man let out a sob.

“I told him everything was going to be alright and he believed me…hell, he got every last hostage out of that building and then he rushed back in trying to help us…” Freddy’s breath shuddered and Jacob felt a few hot drops hit his neck. “Got shot the second he made it through the doors. They said he’s probably going to die.”

“Shh, Freddy, it isn’t your fault,” Jacob whispered, rubbing Freddy’s back and rocking him side to side gently. “You did all you could.”

“I should’ve told him to stay hidden,” Freddy growled, another sob shaking his frame.

“No, Freddy, you shouldn’t’ve. He was doing his job. Besides, he’s not dead yet and all those people are safe because of him,” Jacob continued, slowly walking Freddy back towards his bedroom. Freddy simply shook his head and began to cry in earnest, soaking Jacob’s collar by the time Jacob managed to manhandle him into the bedroom. Jacob carefully steered him towards the bed and sat him down before grabbing the washbowl and pitcher from Freddy’s side table.

“If he dies, it’s my fault,” Freddy whispered, pale beneath the blood and tear tracks marring his face. Jacob was surprised the man hadn’t paused to clean himself up, but, knowing Freddy, the man had probably stormed into Scotland Yard, given his report, and then bolted out the door to let himself be consumed by guilt and grief.

“No it isn’t,” Jacob said, soaking a washcloth in water and ringing it out. He carefully wiped some of the blood from Freddy’s face. “You didn’t pull the trigger, you didn’t sign him up for this job, and you didn’t just let him get shot. You did all you could, and now it’s up to him to fight, alright?”

Freddy stared at his shoes for a long while and then nodded.

“You’re right.”

Jacob smiled at him reassuringly and continued to wash his face. Tomorrow would be another day.

 

 

 

 

Frederick awoke to an empty flat, but when he stumbled into the kitchen he found a fresh loaf of bread on the table and a note pinned to the cutting board with one of Jacob’s knives.

_Freddy,_

_Evie and I have caught wind of a shipment making its way into Westminster some time before noon. If this shipment reaches its destination, it will give the Templars a much needed leg up over us, so, as you can imagine, we have to keep that from happening. I’m sorry that you had to wake up alone after last night, but I’m sure you understand that duty calls. I hope to be back sometime before nightfall, but if things go awry this mission may take longer than expected. Should I fail to return by tonight, I will send word to Henry as soon as possible so that you can be assured of my wellbeing._

_Get some rest,_

_Jacob_

_P.S. A little Nightingale told me that a certain Philip Roberts made it through the night and is now on his way towards a speedy recovery. He is being lauded as a hero and is due for promotion once he’s back on his feet from what I understand. Just thought you ought to know._

Frederick smiled at the note and folded it gently, walking into the sitting room to tuck it away in a small box that he had taken to using to store all the little notes, odds, and ends that Jacob left lying about the flat for him to find. The knife, however, was dug into the wood of the mantle so that Jacob could take it when he returned.

 

The men of Scotland Yard seemed to trip over themselves in an effort to greet Frederick as he walked through the doors. Apparently his actions had inspired the men and saved countless lives, or so he was told over and over again. Frederick accepted the compliments humbly, blushing all the way to the roots of his hair, and slipped away into his office as quickly as he could manage. He hung up his hat by the door but paused when he looked at his desk. Sitting there was another note, behind which was an unassuming wooden box.

As he approached, Frederick noticed that the note was being held in place by a chess piece…a black rook to be exact. His throat tightened and he picked it up, turning it nervously in his palm as he opened the note.

_Sergeant Abberline,_

_You took a few of our pawns, and now it’s our move._

**_Check._ **

 

It was signed with a large red cross. Frederick felt like the floor was falling out beneath him as he opened the box. Inside was Evie’s kukri, the one given to her by Henry after he had proposed to her (because, really, a ring was nice but a knife was much more Evie’s style), Henry’s favourite sash, and Jacob’s hidden blade.

The rook fell to the floor with an inaudible clatter as Frederick pulled the hidden blade out of the box.

“Collins, tell the Inspector that I’m taking a day. I thought I was recovered from yesterday but apparently I’m not,” Frederick called out.

“You’ve got it Abberline,” the man replied from the hall. Frederick took a slow, steadying breath and then strapped the hidden blade to his arm with shaking fingers. He hadn’t earned it yet, but there was no time for training games or semantics now. He slung his coat back on, grabbed his hat, stuffed the note in his pocket, wrapped Evie’s unsheathed knife in the sash, and hid that away in one of his coat’s inside pockets. Apparently it was his turn to save the Brotherhood from destruction, but he was going to need some help.

 

“Where to sir?” the cabbie asked as Frederick hopped up into a carriage.

“Southwark please, and do make it quick.”

“Where in Southwark sir?”

Frederick paused and wracked his brain before remembering a very particular address he had been given by Jacob once. He had never been there before, but he knew that it was just the place to go if Jacob was in trouble and Frederick needed backup. He gave the cabbie the address and then sat back in his seat.

Hopefully Ned Wynert wouldn’t hold too much of a grudge towards Frederick for arresting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm skipping a bit of time since Frederick's training is following the typical routes. We all know how that story goes. Learn to climb, learn to kill, learn to hide, etc. 
> 
> I'm just really excited to pull Ned and some of the other side characters I've fallen in love with into this story. 
> 
> Frederick isn't this story's only damsel in distress (because the Fryes have saved him twice now and its only fair).


	10. Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why am I not surprised?"  
> "I mean, it is me we're talking about here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Sorry that this took so darn long to update. Every time I kept sitting down to write this chapter I'd get to like 400 words then be like "nah" sooooo this might not be the best chapter ever but I really need to kick this story's ass and just get it out on the page because otherwise it'll never get finished.

Frederick had no problem getting into Ned's office. The problem, honestly, was that he was being frog marched into Ned's office by two well dressed thugs, one with a gun pressed to the small of Frederick's back. He put up no struggle, however, and let them shove him towards Ned's desk. 

"Ah, Sergeant Abberline. How nice of you to pay a visit," Ned said, glancing up at Frederick over his spectacles. He snapped the ledger he had been writing in shut, hiding the countless numbers and names that Frederick knew would, if he hadn't sworn to Jacob not to let his work as an Assassin be contradicted by his work as a police officer, enable him to take down Ned's whole network in days. "Come to arrest me again?"

"Not quite," Frederick replied, stretching out his arms. He wasn't used to being the one to have their arms pinned behind their back, and the position was remarkably uncomfortable. No wonder criminals complained whenever he cuffed them. "I need your help." 

Ned snorted. "A member of Scotland Yard needs  _my_ help? Tell me then, what could you possibly need from me? A loan? Information on another criminal in the city?" he almost sneered, resting his chin atop his hands as he quirked a brow at Frederick. 

"The Fryes have been taken, as well as their associate Henry Green," Frederick said, reaching into his pocket to drop Henry's sash and Evie's knife on Ned's desk. He rolled up his sleeve to reveal Jacob's hidden blade. "If we want to keep London moving forward, we are going to need to find them and I can't do that without you." 

Ned's face paled slightly and he picked up the kukri, turning it in his hands as he stood. 

"Hoskins, Hobbs, spread the word to the informants that the Fryes have gone missing. Any information on their whereabouts is to be brought directly to me...by word of mouth. I cannot risk any of this information being intercepted. If anyone acts suspicious...well, you know what to do," Ned ordered, flying out from behind his desk to grab his coat and hat off of a hook on the wall. He paused for a moment to toss the ledgers on his desk into an open safe, slammed it shut with a deafening clang, and then clapped his now gloved hands together. "Abberline, you're with me. There's a few other people in the city we'll need if we're to find the Fryes and Mister Green before it's too late." 

 

 

 

 

Topping stared at Ned for a long moment, his usually jovial face falling flat and grim. He clicked his tongue and angrily kicked the edge of his desk, running a hand through his dark hair. 

"Robert, if you can't be calm about this you're going to be no use at all," Ned said almost soothingly, drumming his fingertips on Robert's desk. Frederick lingered by the doorway, unsure of what to make of all this. Topping's office was far more telling than Ned's, tucked safely away under the bar of one of his many fight clubs, this one disguised as a warehouse, times and locations of carriage races pinned to the wall beside maps marked with race routes, names and debts to be paid hastily scrawled on another piece of parchment...

"The Fryes are one of the only chances we've got. How are you being calm about this?" Robert hissed, his hands flying out in a gesture of agitation. Ned pinched the bridge of his nose and sat on top of the desk. 

"Because being calm is the only solution to this situation. I have my informants scouring the city for even a whisper of their whereabouts, but you've got the muscle Rob." 

Robert's shoulders slumped and he nodded, looking at his boots before meeting Frederick's eyes. 

"I have a few gents that would be willing to help in whatever way they can, and you know that I'm with you," he said. 

"Can they be trusted?" Frederick asked. Robert didn't even hesitate to nod, resting a hand on Ned's shoulder. 

"I'd trust them with anything, they've been with me from the very beginning," Robert replied. Ned leaned into the touch so casually that Frederick almost missed it, and for some reason the gesture drew a faint smile to his lips. Perhaps they understood some of his motivations behind saving Jacob a little better than most. 

"Then we should keep moving," Frederick said. Robert nodded and reached for his hat before Ned shook his head, rolling his eyes a bit. 

"What?" Topping asked. 

"Your outfits tend to scream 'arrest me, I'm a bookie,' Rob. Perhaps something a little more subtle would be more appropriate just this once," Ned suggested, and Robert smiled fondly at him. 

"As usual, you are correct," Topping chuckled. "When all this is said and done, remind me to tell you about the time he warned me about the brawl yard in Westminster," he added, winking conspiratorially at Frederick before he flew up the stairs to change into something more appropriate. 

"So, Robert eh?" Frederick asked, glancing at Ned. Ned's face was pleased but calm, and he nodded. 

"Yep. Man's like a bloody peacock, but once he's not putting on a show he's...good. Nice, y'know? Bit rough around the edges, but good," Ned murmured, hopping off the desk. 

"Oh, trust me, I know," Frederick sighed, running his thumb across the elaborate embroidery that decorated the leather underside of Jacob's blade. 

 

 

 

The information they so desired came not from one of Ned's informants, nor from a Rook, but rather from a bedraggled looking urchin with a yellow ribbon in her hair. 

"Sergeant Abberline?" the girl asked, glancing up at him with hands on her hips. Frederick wanted to chuckle at the serious expression, but something about her made him hesitate. Perhaps it was the short cropped blonde curls, the trousers, and the ferocious gleam in her eyes, or perhaps it was the lack of childish naivety in her voice, but, regardless, he nodded sharply. 

"You're one of Clara's then?" he questioned. The girl nodded and glanced around nervously, gesturing for him to come closer. Frederick took a knee and the girl stepped up into his space, cupping her hand around her mouth so that nobody passing by could read her lips. 

"One of the older boys that works in a factory in Whitechapel saw a group of Blighters dragging three people into a house last night on his way home from work. He said that all three of them had their heads covered and were too limp to be conscious, but the outfits they were wearing could only be the Fryes and Mister Green," she whispered. Frederick's heart sped up and he nodded, wishing for her to continue. 

"When he told Clara, she sent a few urchins to beg on the corners there and keep an eye out. We don't know how many guards there are, but they're going to move the group again tonight." 

"Do you know where they're moving them to?" Frederick asked, tilting his head slightly to keep his own mouth out of sight. The girl hesitated, but dug into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. 

"We don't know the address, but I overheard some of the Blighters talking and one said that they were to take a particular road during the trip. I've written down the road and the intersection in particular he mentioned. I...I marked their carriage when they weren't paying attention, it's a dark red and I carved a little x into the back of it just above the back wheels. I hope that's enough for you to find them," the girl explained. Frederick stared at her curiously for a moment. 

"You took quite a risk doing that...why?" he asked. 

"Jacob and Evie Frye have saved my life on many occasions, and they do the best they can to help all of us out. I just want to return the favour...I hate being indebted to someone," the girl grinned, and then she took off down the street, cutting into an alley and disappearing before Frederick could call out to her. Ned plucked the paper out of Frederick's hand, examining it for a second and then passing it to Topping. 

"Oh,  _oh,_ " Topping cackled, practically dancing with excitement. "They're taking the back roads."

"Why are you so excited by this?" Frederick sighed, scratching at his jaw. 

"Because nobody knows the little back roads of London quite like I do Mister Abberline. After all, it is rather difficult to pull off carriage races on roads where the police patrol," Topping smirked. Frederick made a small, defeated sound, and both Ned and Topping chuckled at him. 

"So what's the plan then?" Frederick asked. Ned hummed thoughtfully and then clapped his hands together. 

"I think it's time for some theatrics gents," Ned grinned. 

"Oh dear lord," Topping sighed. 

"What?" Frederick questioned. 

"If you think I'm bad, just you wait until you see Ned get all...theatrical," he muttered as Ned almost skipped away, gleefully shouting at their carriage driver to get ready to move out. 

"Let's just hope it works," Frederick said. "I don't really care how we get them back, just that we do." 

 

 

 

Frederick realised that he had been getting far too used to spending his days on rooftops when he looked down at the winding street below him and didn't feel a sickening sense of vertigo creep over him. Jacob had broken him of his fear and his body of its weakness in good time, and now Frederick was able to scramble up buildings with almost as much ease as Jacob, albeit much more slowly. He took his time, picking careful routes and perches with optimal view  _and_ maneuverability, whereas Jacob delighted in the thrill of the chase and let out hoots of excitement when his grip slipped and he almost plummeted fifty feet to his death. It was much more difficult to see in the dark, but the street was lit by a few lanterns in windows and the occasional street lamp, as Whitechapel was able to afford more...modern amenities. His vision wouldn't be what aided him though; Ned's plan had been well thought through from beginning to end, and while Frederick's stomach twisted at the thought of Ned risking his life, he knew that the man would punch him for suggesting he and Topping play a less involved part in this rescue endeavour. 

Three sharp caws broke the silence of the night, and Frederick's eyes snapped down towards where the carriage was supposed to come from. There was a rustle and another three caws, this time closer than before. Clearing his throat, Frederick glanced downward and saw that Ned was already crouched in the shadows of the alley below, red painting his hands and his side. Frederick let out two carefully rehearsed caws. To anyone on the street below, it would sound like a building of rooks all chattering away at one another, but the group had been sure to chase all rooks (and any other corvids in the area) away before settling down. One more sharp caw was heard and then the creaking of a carriage barreling down the street covered up the sound. Ned let out a wail and stumbled into the street, clutching his side and lurching fearlessly into the carriage's path. The driver yanked on the reins and the horses reared up, screeching at the sudden stop. 

"What the hell mate? Are you mad?!" the driver bellowed. "Get out of the way!" 

"Please sir, you must help me!" Ned groaned, stumbling towards the driver with a bloodstained hand outstretched. "There's-there's a mugger about and he stabbed me!" 

"I can't, now get out of my way!" the driver barked, but his face betrayed a modicum of regret. Ned shook his head and grasped the edge of the carriage, wavering from side to side ever so slightly. His hand, invisible to the driver, flashed two fingers, one, and then three fingers. Frederick bit his lip and then took a few steps back, calculating the move as quickly as he could. Two in the carriage, one outside (the driver), and all three Assassins inside. This was going to have to be quick. Frederick sucked in a deep breath, let out a  _cacaw, caw!_ and then sprinted towards the edge of the building. He took a flying leap and his stomach twisted as he unsheathed the hidden blade and landed directly on top of the driver, slamming the blade into his throat before he could react. There was no time to focus on the sensation of blood washing over Frederick's hand or the way the driver's life flickered out in his eyes because Frederick was already wrenching the carriage door open and grabbing the Templar nearest to him while Ned did the same on the other side. There was a bang as Ned shot his target, and Frederick used the hidden blade to slit the throat of the woman fighting to break away from him. Shouts were coming from down the street, no doubt the backups for this small group, and Frederick heard Topping let out a piercing whistle from where he was hiding a few blocks away. There was a chorus of bangs, screams, and then the deafening crunch of carriages colliding. 

"Frederick, get them out of here, go! I'll help Robert," Ned ordered, slamming the door to the carriage on his side shut. Frederick quickly scurried back up into the driver's seat and shoved the dead driver out onto the street. Ned's shirt was soaked with blood, real blood, darker and wetter than the fake stuff he had mixed together to fool the driver temporarily, but he looked unhurt. In fact, Ned's face was cool and collected as he checked the chamber of his pistol and flicked a knife out from a sheath on his belt. 

"Are you sure?" Frederick asked, knowing how much hell Jacob would give him if either man were injured because of this rescue endeavour. 

"Go! Robert and I have been at this sort of thing longer than you have, we'll be fine. Just get them back to the safehouse and wait for us there," Ned barked, and then he was running down the street to join in the fray happening just outside of Frederick's line of vision. Frederick flicked the reins and urged the horses on. 

 

 

"-more hours, there shouldn't be any permanent damage as far as I can tell." 

Jacob groaned and his eyes screwed shut tightly as voices began rattling around in his skull. The Templars had been drugging him, Henry, and Evie up with some nasty stuff the past few days, apparently not wanting to risk allowing them a moment of consciousness that didn't feel like they were treading through molasses, and so waking up from that without something else being shoved down his throat or jammed into him with a needle was a jarring experience. 

"Look, he's waking up," another voice said, and this one sounded familiar. He risked letting his right eye crack open and immediately regretted the choice as the light blinded him. It took a few moments of rapid blinking to combat that sensation, and once he did so the figures standing around him slowly shifted from looking like they were blurry watercolour paintings being looked at through warped glass to crisp, clear figures, to actual humans that he recognised. 

"Ned?" Jacob croaked, trying to sit up. He was stopped by a gentle hand on his chest and he looked to Ned's left to see Florence standing there. "Nurse Nightingale," he added with a weak smile. 

"Welcome back Jacob," Florence smiled, patting his chest fondly. "I suggest you take it easy, the drugs they gave you did a number on you my boy." 

"Glad to see you awake though Frye," another person said, and Topping stepped around from the foot of his bed to rest an arm on Ned's shoulder as he smiled down at Jacob. 

"What? How did you...?" Jacob asked. It didn't make any sense. The Templars had come in the night, grabbing him and Evie, and by the time he was conscious again, all he could tell was that they had Henry too. There wasn't anyone left in London to save them. He had thought that it was the end of the London Brotherhood. 

"Ah, now that's not my story to tell," Topping grinned, and even Ned rolled his eyes fondly at that. There was a click as a door opened behind Jacob, but he was honestly too woozy to turn around and see who entered the room. Clearly everyone here was a friend...or the drugs he had been given this time around were really,  _really_ good. 

" _Jacob_." 

The breathless relief was enough to tell Jacob that this was real, and he was smiling before he even felt Freddy's fingers brushing gently through his hair. He hummed happily and turned his head into the touch, looking up to see Freddy standing there with an expression of fond exasperation that was becoming far too commonplace in their relationship. 

"Hiya Freddy," Jacob murmured, melting into Freddy's gentle touches. Freddy flopped down into the chair at Jacob's bedside and leaned forward to press a kiss to Jacob's forehead. It was...surprisingly less bristly. 

"We were worried you weren't going to wake up," Freddy said, his voice soft. Jacob heard Ned and Robert walk away, followed shortly by Florence, but he couldn't be bothered to watch them leave. 

"Couldn't leave you behind, now could I?" 

Freddy chuckled and kissed his forehead again, and Jacob's eyebrows went up when he realised that Frederick had shaved, abandoning his enormous mutton chops in favour of a much less distinctive moustache. 

"For a few days there, we were afraid you had," Freddy replied, resuming his careful stroking of Jacob's hair. 

"Nah, can't get rid of me that easily." Jacob surveyed Freddy more closely, noted the shadows under Freddy's eyes and the way his hair was flopping into his face in strands, no doubt having been pushed out of its carefully set styling by nervous hands running through it. When Jacob saw the blade on Freddy's wrist though, his heart skipped a few beats. 

"So, am I to gather that this whole rescue operation was your plan then?" Jacob asked, letting his eyes fall shut. He was admittedly nervous to hear just how much involvement Freddy had had in this operation considering that Freddy's career as an officer of Scotland Yard was still a very distinctly advantageous cover. 

"In part, yes. Ned and Robert were extraordinarily helpful, as was your urchin network," Freddy answered. Slowly, the sergeant explained how he had gotten the letter and Jacob's blade, Evie's knife, and Henry's sash, how he had gone immediately to Ned and Robert for assistance, and how both men had combined their resources and expertise with Freddy's to create a rescue plan once the little urchin had revealed to them where the Assassins would be moved. Robert and some of his oldest allies had apparently captured the Templars traveling behind the carriage Jacob had been loaded into in a rather nasty carriage collision, and both groups had engaged in an all out war on the street that had luckily only left one non-Templar dead. Topping was supposedly sporting a few new bruises and a fractured wrist, and Ned a broken rib and sprained shoulder, but Frederick had thankfully escaped unharmed. 

"Evie? Henry?" Jacob asked once Freddy was done explaining. 

"They're fine, Henry woke up about an hour ago, and Evie a few minutes before you. They think that had to give you a higher dose than the two of them because you're heavier. Florence has them in a separate room since this one only had one bed and she didn't want to separate them," Freddy explained. Jacob chuckled and shook his head. 

"Good thinking on her part, Evie'd go on a warpath if she couldn't make sure Henry was alright." 

"Oh, I'm sure. I rather understand that sentiment now I think," Freddy said. Jacob arched into his touch again and they fell into a comfortable but expectant silence.

"I can't believe you jumped off of a building," Jacob finally muttered. That drew a laugh from the Sergeant, who gently tugged on a few strands of hair behind Jacob's ear. 

"I can't believe you got captured and made me jump off of a building. I thought you were supposed to be the Assassin." 

Jacob reached down and took Freddy's hand in his, tugging it up onto the bed. "Yes, well, I think you're rather on your way to becoming one now," he said, tapping at the blade that Freddy was wearing. Freddy's face flushed and he immediately moved to unbuckle the gauntlet, a bit of panic creeping into his features. 

"I really hope you aren't angry about...I didn't know if it was alright or not...I just...it seemed like the most effective weapon and I wanted some part of you..." he began to ramble. Jacob cut him off by oh so gently clapping a hand over his mouth. 

"How could I be angry? You took the initiative and saved my life.  _Our_ lives. Evie and Henry owe you their lives just as much as I do. What's more, you saved the London Brotherhood," Jacob murmured, lifting himself up onto one elbow and dropping his hand to cup Freddy's oddly smooth jaw. "If anyone deserves to wear my blade in a time of crisis, it's you." 

 

 

Frederick's breath caught in his throat. The statement was so heavily laden, the blade was a part of Jacob as he had so quickly discovered at the beginning of their relationship, and being permitted to take it off of the man let alone  _wear_ it? That was a testament of love and trust beyond what words could describe. Frederick nuzzled into Jacob's palm and pressed a kiss to the rough skin there. 

"Well I will be very glad to return it to its proper owner," he said. Jacob's thumb slowly started tracing his cheekbone. 

"And I will be very glad for the day I get to give you one of your own," Jacob smiled. Frederick shrugged, blushing fiercely at the sentiment, at the  _respect_ in Jacob's eyes and the pride in his voice. "But nothing will make me more glad than having you here." 

Frederick gave no resistance as Jacob tugged him forward and kissed him slowly, licking his way into his mouth as if he needed to relearn the way Frederick tasted, how his lips felt, the ridges of the backs of his teeth. Just as Frederick let out a soft whine and his fingers tangled in Jacob's hair, the door banged open. 

"Alright you two, I know this has all been very stressful for you, but Jacob needs to rest and  _that_ is not going to help him recover Sergeant Abberline," Florence huffed, glaring at the two of them as they hastily separated. 

"Sorry, sorry," Frederick mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as Jacob began to cackle gleefully. Once Florence had shoved a few different medicines in Jacob's mouth and left, Frederick glared at the Master Assassin. 

"I don't know why I love you," he huffed when Jacob started laughing again. 

"I don't know either, but I'm glad you do," Jacob beamed. Frederick sighed and leaned back in his chair, contentment and relief flooding his chest with warmth. The blade on his arm lost all of its heaviness as Jacob continued to laugh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I ship Ned and Topping, but I do. Topping is so...over the top, and Ned is so subtle when he wants to be, I feel like they're just a good pair. Iunno. Also. Cheesy ending is cheesy but yes. This has been sitting on my computer for weeks and it just needed to be done so forgive me if the ending wasn't up to my usual standard.


End file.
